Dreaming Out Loud
by Sincerely Savannah
Summary: 2003 version. Wendy is now 19, and everything she remembers about Neverland is just passed off as a dream that keeps occuring. When Neverland is in it's most devastating crisis, can she believe in the most impossible things known to our world?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Hi, this is my first Fanfiction, and I have to be honest. I nearly jumped up and down screaming when I figured out how to upload stories on here. It was a complete blonde moment.**

**Some of the ideas here will definitely be from Alice in Wonderland, 2010 because that's kind of where I got the idea to write this fic. I deeply appreciate all reviews, just don't turn the reviews into a war zone, like I've seen happen before.**

**I'm giving out a warning right now, be patient when it comes to updates, because I can get extremely lazy, even though I have a laptop in front of me most of the time. And if there are any music recommendations, I will gladly accept them, just nothing rap, or something that comes from the Disney Channel-no offense.**

**Please let me know what you think of anything! Thanks.**

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_**Prologue **_

It is said that all children grow up except one. That there is a place, like no place on Earth. A destination where no one is supposed to grow up. Where you have to be completely mad and childish to survive it.

Where you have to believe, whether it is a dream or not.

Luckily, this place only exists in the imagination of a mind that is far too creative. Or so, this is what people used to think.

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The dream always went the same way. I was in a strange land that was entirely otherworldly. This place wasn't supposed to exist.

Perhaps the stories I used to tell John and Michael were too vividly drawn out in my head. That the landscape of this strangely magnificent place was far too visible for my own good.

I did read somewhere that the dreams known as Ordinary Dreams are based on what we've experienced during the day. That even a single thought can trigger a dream. But the book never said anything about the same Ordinary Dream occurring nearly every night. Or if it's normal that, that one Ordinary Dream is the only dream that I've had for a while.

I stared up at my dark ceiling, straining to hear the steady sleeping breaths of my brothers. When I used to sleep in the nursery with John and Michael, this was the exact thing that would ease me to sleep. Now with a wall in between us, even a paper thin one, it was impossible to hear them. Only on those silent nights, I would get a few minutes of luck and hear them.

And on the nights like this—when I would wake up from the dream, nearly gasping for air, with a light sheen of sweat on my forehead—would I pray for those silent lucky moments to have their breathing lull me back to sleep. But of course, that would not happen tonight. For there was a horrid thunderstorm looming over Bloomsbury.

I sighed as the rain began pounding even harder than before, making it sound like pebbles were falling from the sky. I sat up in my bed, threw the covers off my legs and made my way to the door in the dim light. After stubbing my toe on my desk, which always seemed to be too close to my bed, I reached the door and let the golden light spill into my room. Mother would already be asleep, and I wouldn't want to wake her. But I could still see light coming from Father's study, and he always knew how to calm me.

Quietly as I could, I walked to Father's study, as my shadow danced across the hall, mirroring my every move. Only when I got to the study, I remembered, too slow, that Father had one of his late night meetings with his banking company. So I stood in the doorway to his study, feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as possible. My eyes went straight to my Father's face, and I saw how his eyes had softened when he understood why I came out of bed so late into the night.

"The dream again?" Father asked after stopping mid-sentence while talking to his co-workers.

I nodded my head slowly, not caring if I should be feeling embarrassed to stand in front of Father's co-workers after waking up from a bad dream in the middle of the night.

Father looked back towards his colleagues, "Excuse me for a moment. This won't take long." He walked out of his study and took my hand to lead me back to bed.

After making sure I was tucked into the sheets, Father sat down beside me on the bed.

"Now Wendy, why don't you tell me about this dream again?"

"Well it always begins the same," I began quietly. Hoping my voice was audible. "I'm flying high into the night skies of London, past the stars and straight into the brightest star there is, the second one to the right. Then I come across an island floating in nothingness. And there is a boy, who claims he will never grow into a man. And a fairy who glows like a piece of that bright star. And several strange boys, walking around with bows and arrows. A pirate with a hook for a hand, and whose eyes turn blood red when he is about to kill. And Indians, and mermaids who like to drown people if they get too close.

"Father, do you think I've gone mad? I'm dreaming of places that could never possible exist, and—"

"Do you want to know what I think about this?" He said, cutting my ramblings off. "I think you've gone completely mad. Absolute, full circle around the bed. But I'll tell you a secret. Some of the greatest people in this world are."

And with that I smiled. His words were my main solace.

Seeing the obvious sudden comfort spread across my features, Father stood up and said, "Goodnight," he kissed my forehead, "have a peaceful sleep."

As father walked out the door, and closed it gently behind him, I stared out my window. The storm had finally passed, leaving large puddles in the English streets as the only trace of evidence it was ever even there.

Cautious of all the cracks in the floor, I got out of bed again and walked over to me window. Pushing it open, thanking the gods it was silent, I felt the cool breeze blow across my face, and the wind playing with my loose auburn brown waves. I closed my eyes to let this feeling sink in, when I heard a sound just above my window. Almost like footsteps. But as soon as I heard the sound, it was gone. Like it never happened.

I leaned my upper body out slightly to look up at the roof. Nothing. Sighing, I straightened up and turned to walk back to my bed, leaving the window open.

Only when I saw the wall directly across from the window, I saw a shadow against the moonlight bleeding in. The shadow was just floating in the air, like nothing—not even gravity—could pull it down.

Gasping, I turned to look out the window again. There was nothing there to cause the shadow. I turned back to the wall. No shadow.

Not knowing what else to do, I crawled back into bed, and let the tapping sound of rain dripping off the roof, ease me to sleep.

And then something I thought wouldn't happen—especially not tonight—did. I heard the sleeping breaths of John and Michael.

I never saw the shadow again.

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**And there it is! I'll try to update soon . . . hopefully. And now you know the drill, the same as with the many amazing authors on Fanfiction. Please review! Thanks a lot!**

**~Sincerely, Savannah**


	2. Hands of Time

**Author's Note: First of all, I want give a big thanks to the reviews I received, being the dork I am, I jumped up and down, going around in circles with happiness! That made me want to write this fic more than ever. I'm a major dork about this kind of thing. **

**And just letting you know, the romance in this story may not start out at first, but trust me, it will definitely be there eventually. **

**And here is a warning: I've been given reviews so I figured I'b better go back and warn you. For the next, about 4 chapters including this one, it is _very_ Alice in Wonderland, 2010. But if you stick with the story, it does . . . move on from Alice, you could say. Just letting you know, and thank you for reading! **

**And now, back to the story!**

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_**Hands of Time**_

_Life is a carousel,_

_Dancing round the mirrors,_

_We go up and down._

_So let the music take away the hurt you've come to know so well._

_Let it go cause . . . _

_You can't turn back the __**Hands of Time,**_

_Just let it go and you'll be fine. _—Rachel Diggs

_**Seven Years Later . . . **_

The sun was brutal as it beat down, through the windows of the carriage I was now sitting in, that was carrying me to yet another event I refused to go to, multiple times. But my mother, being the persistent woman she is, somehow managed to get me into this god awful carriage. And now here we are; mere minutes away from another place where people pretended to be everything they weren't. And the gossipers of our town say that I'm living in a fantasy world.

I glanced over at my mother, looking away from the scenery of a mansion where the people living in it, put up a wall that made it seem like the perfect world. But if you looked closely enough—past the gowns, and tea parties, and brunches filled with high society people—then you could see that this word was anything but perfect. It fact it was the exact definition of horrendous.

My mother, her eyes were weary and yet weak with grief. Even after the five years of his death, my mother still looked at the world as if it was going to throw another bomb at her, only to make her world shake and unbalanced even more. Of course over the years, she's kept a strong face in front of the crowds, just to show anyone who thought the death of her husband—her other half—would take away the fire that made her the unique woman who raised three children, that they were wrong. But as age became more apparent on her face, she let some of the walls weaken, just enough to show that she may not be as strong as she once was.

"Mother, do we have to go?" I asked, as my last hope. Even though I knew it was useless, we were nearly to the house. No turning back now.

"Of course we do. As the only adults of a household, we need to be wherever socialites are. So we can show everyone we are perfectly capable of keeping our lives straight." She answered, not taking her eyes off the window.

"But who exactly are we proving this to? The gossipers who will just repeat any tale they are told, whether there is proof or not, whether it is true or not. If father were here, we would know that we wouldn't have to prove ourselves to anyone," I replied, trying to keep my voice gentle, not wanting the comment seem like a snap.

My mother finally turned her head to look at me. You could tell in her eyes, she was at a loss for words. A hint of sadness touched her eyes, and I could tell that now more than ever, she wanted my Father there, just so he could explain to me the need for these silly parties, and make it seem like we could just make a joke out of the whole thing. But my father wasn't there to do that. He could never be there to do that again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night," I apologized, using my lack of sleep as an excuse for my inconsiderate ways of mentioning my Father before we made a public appearance.

"The same dream?" my Mother questioned, knowing this still troubled me.

"Always. Don't most people have different dreams?" I asked, honestly not knowing the answer because no one ever gave me one to this question.

"I don't know," was the only answer she gave me. This was the answer I would most likely ever get. I sighed rather loudly, and the moment I did this, I knew it was a mistake.

My mother scrutinized my look, and the easy way I was breathing, which wouldn't have been the case if I was wearing a corset. "Where is your corset?"

"In the drawers," I answered guiltily, refusing to drop my head in shame.

"Wendy," she gasped. Then I saw that another thought had occurred to her. She leaned over to me, and lifted up my dress to see that there were no stockings on my legs. She gasped again. "No stockings?"

"They're rather uncomfortable." I answered, looking out the window once again.

"Wendy, we are required to wear them for a reason."

"And who on earth made those requirements? Tell me mother, if it was required for us to wear hats that were made from the skin of salmon, would you follow those?" I asked, hoping my point was proved.

"Wendy . . ."

"To me, wearing corsets and stockings is like wearing a salmon hat," I mumbled under my breath, knowing she wouldn't be able to make out the words.

Out the window, I saw the mansion, and the garden come into closer view. Dreading getting out of the carriage, I tried to avoid letting my gaze fall towards the garden party. Why was there another one of these? There was just one not two weeks ago!

Once the carriage had come to a complete stop, and my Mother was standing on her two feet, outside, I let out a huge sigh, and restrained myself from hitting my head against the back of the carriage in the hopes that it would knock me unconscious. Just before I gave away to my will, the horse rider came back to the door to help me out. I gave him my hand and let him help take step by step out onto the stone paved ground. I looked towards my mother and saw that she was already two steps ahead of me, heading to the hosts of the party. Hurrying to catch up to her, I had to run a little to match my step with hers. The woman of the household saw this, and I could tell she was scolding me on the inside for doing this. When we finally reached the husband and wife of the mansion, the woman looked directly at me.

"Wendy, Harris is awaiting a dance with you," she said. You see, this woman was Matilda Dashwood, wife of Lord Harris Dashwood the first. Her husband was my father's most trusted employee, and was now the owner of the company. My Mother and I thought that was what Father would've wanted.

I nodded to Matilda and walked away quickly. That woman honestly scared the bloody hell out of me. I was nearly out of earshot when my mother started a conversation with the tow of them, but I could barely make out the words that any of them were saying. Looking around the square where the dancing took place, I looked for Harris the second. He fancied me in a polite and gentlemanly way, and admired me from afar. And I thought it was a nice gesture. But when you thought about it, there really was nothing more. None of the passion that my mother and father's relationship had through all those years.

Finally, I spotted Harris walking towards me, with a polite grin on his face. His normally bright red hair, looked somewhat dull in the late morning-early afternoon sunlight. "Good day, Wendy," he said, extending his arm. I really had no choice to take it—woman in 'proper' society always accepted the offer of a Lord. If I had a quarter of a pound every time my mother had to remind me of that, I would've been rich enough to have been living on my own in a foreign country.

I took Harris' arm, with a small polite smile on my face, just as a new dance started. Five minutes into the dance, a huge grin spread across my face and a small laugh escaped from my lips.

"Do you find something about me amusing?" Harris asked me, confused, while still keeping step in the complex dance.

"No," the smile apparent in my voice. "Just lost in my own thoughts."

"Which are?" he asked me intrigued, like I was a new equation that he had to find an answer to. Because for Harris, there was always an answer, otherwise nothing was ever logical.

"I just had a sudden daydream, that everyone here suddenly turned into a school of codfish, and a giant crocodile came out of nowhere and went after all the red ones," I answered, still laughing at the scene that had just played through my mind.

"Oh, well . . . maybe you should just try to control your daydreams," he answered. Apparently my answer wasn't logical enough for him.

Two more dances went by, as Harris spun me around the square, in exact sync to the other pairs dancing. We were now at the part where Harris walked me around in a circle, when I nearly collided with another girl who was also being walked around in a circle.

"So sorry, Miss. She isn't exactly the most focused at the moment," Harris apologized to girl for me. I was in too much of a daze to really say anything, so all I could do was give the girl an apologetic look as we walked away. "Where is your head?" he asked me when we were out of earshot with the couple, obviously confused and slightly frustrated.

"I was just thinking about what it would be like to fly," I answered tearing my gaze away from the deep blue sky as a herd of birds flew by, over our heads.

"Why would you think about such an impossible thing?"

"Why, wouldn't I? When I was younger, my father and I would think of seven impossible things before breakfast."

Before Harris could answer this, the dance ended, and his father came up behind him, "Would you mind terribly if I stole my son for a moment?" I shook my head, answering his question, giving both him and Harris a curtsy before I stepped back, praying I didn't walk into anyone else, and walked off the square on to the grass. But I stepped right in front of two little boys, with a two year age difference between them, grinning and gazing up at me.

"Hello, Wendy," the boys said in perfect unison.

The two boys were Harris' little nephews, from his older sister, who was also one of my dear good friends. Even though the boys could be awfully cute and adorable, they could also be completely and impossibly irritating. Especially now, when you knew there was something hiding behind their impish grin.

"Hello boys," I answered kindly, hoping to avoid any disasters that the boys could inflict on anyone.

"Guess what, Wendy. We know something that we can't tell you." The older boy said, Nicholas.

"Something big," the younger one added, Noah.

"Well, come out with it then. What is it?" I asked straight out, not having the patience today for their little games.

"Sorry, we can't tell you," Nickolas said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Well you've mentioned it already, you must say in now," I said, now my endless curiosity was controlling my voice.

"No, actually we don't," Nicholas answered.

"Actually, we won't," Noah added. You could clearly see who the leader in this group was.

An idea started forming in my head, and my own impish smile started forming. "Okay then. Maybe I should tell Miss Dashwood about the _real _inconvenience that occurred last Christmas." And I knew I had them tied. I wasn't the only one who was terrified of the woman. I could see it in their faces that they were shocked I would threaten them with the story of how the Christmas Eve disaster really started.

Nervously, they looked at each other's faces, and nodded, once again, in sync—it seemed like everything here was like that.

Nicholas looked at me with nervousness bright in his eyes, and Noah just looked like I scared the wits out of him. Together they answered my question, "Harris is planning to ask you for your hand in marriage in the gazebo in approximately twenty minutes."

. . . . . . . . . . . . Holy _shit!_

I stood there with shock written across my face. _Why? _

"Oh, you two! Shoo! Shoo!" the boy's mother, Allie, said coming from behind me. The boys hurriedly ran away. Lucky them. "Oh no, he's gone to so much trouble to keep this a secret." Allie said, probably more to herself than to me. She turned to face me, and saw the apparent bewilder on my face. "Come, walk with me."

I turned to begin walking with Allie, my mouth still slightly open, and I could feel my eyes bugged out in utter shock. We kept it silent for a few moments. Then finally, Allie asked me, "You can't really be that shocked, Wendy. You had to have seen this coming soon enough."

Then a thought suddenly occurred to me. "Does everyone, here know?"

"Of course," she answered so lightly, "This is your _engagement_ party."

Utter shock filled my every thought once again. "But . . . but I don't know if I want to marry him," I exclaimed in confession.

"Well, of course you must. He is a _Lord_, and you know what women must do when a lord offers her something. Always accept. Now when he proposes to you—" she was cut off by her own mother, Matilda. Oh god, I find out that a man I could never have a passionate relationship is going to propose to me, and now his terrifying mother—my soon to be mother-in-law—is walking towards me!

"Wendy Darling, would you mind to come take a walk with me?" she asked in her most kind voice I've ever heard from her. Well, what else can I say? Hell no, then cut and run? If only . . .

"No, Miss. Not at all," I answer as kindly as possible. I mean, this was the woman who scolded me for running not that long ago.

No words were spoken until we reached the hedges that created, almost a wall to separate us from the rest of the party. Around us in small bunches of bushes, were white roses that looked more than perfect. I could hear Matilda beginning to talk, but I was only half listening. She was going on, and on about what Harris would need in his daily life, as if he couldn't provide for himself. I was looking around the area we were walking, and in a small spot, barely noticeable, there was one red rose. Anyone else would've missed it. But you had to look close to find the hidden beauty that was at least what my father would always say.

I was barely even listening to Matilda now, honestly tired of hearing her drone on and on about her son and his needs, and how good of a man he is. This was really getting a little ridiculous.

I was just on the verge of tuning her out, completely, when she asked a question that I didn't give much thought to anyone even asking me it, "And Wendy, I understand that your mother changed her name back to Devisee, and yet you kept your father's name. Why is that?"

For the third time within an hour, I was stunned into utter shock. Was she expecting me to change my last name to Dashwood if I were to marry her son? Why was she even asking me this question? Wasn't this a little too personal? How could she think that she could just simply interrogate me, and make me explain why I kept the name, Darling? All of these questions started to flood my mind. And I realized, that I was standing in the same spot, with the same posture, same facial expression, same everything, for nearly five minutes. I figured there was no bothering in fighting to answer her question.

"Simply because, Miss Dashwood, I refuse to give up my Father's name."

"Oh, well you do understand that when you are betrothed, you will have to take the name of your Fiancé. It is considered highly _un_classified when women refuse to change their name. It forever keeps them a spinster." Matilda replied, as if my answer was somewhat foolish.

I was about to reply to that, when a sudden light caught my eye. It was an extremely small, bright light. Like a piece of the brightest star, that always laid second to the right, had broken off and was now floating around. "Do you see that?" I asked not really think about the words leaving my mouth, pointing to where I saw the light. Strangely enough, it was by the only red rose in the patch.

"See what dear?" she asked looking to where I was pointing, and then brushing the question aside. " Now as I was saying, when you are wedded to a man, it is highly anticipated of you to—" I cut her off, before she could finish reminding me of how a woman should respectably take her husband's last name proudly.

"Right there! That strange light! Do you see it?" I asked a little anxious now.

"No interruptions. Like I was saying before we got into the name business, Harris needs—"

"I'm sorry, Miss Dashwood, this is very interesting, but you'll have to excuse me." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the golden light float away, and I knew instantly I had to follow it or I would lose it. So I ran, not caring if Matilda was scolding, after the light that was faster than I thought at first. I ran through the maze of hedges, on the luscious green grass, until I was out of the maze. The light was nowhere to be found. No traces of it. Just gone.

I walked slowly onto the hard stone pavement a little disappointed. I knew it was about time for Harris to take me to the gazebo, where he would propose, no doubt with a few hundred people as an audience. I was nearly out of time. I knew what I was expected to say. But I hardly knew what I wanted to say. That was the problem with the requirements of women. What was expected of us, and what we wanted just become blurred lines, eventually giving away to society. I could practically feel the hand on a clock moving to when it would be time to give my answer. I could hear the ticking sounds. I could feel the hands of time moving forward, not back. As much as I wished they would.

I wished they could go back to five years ago, when my Father would've given me some of the greatest advice, and would've calmed my nerves. If he was here, I would have known exactly what I would want to say to Harris. But ever since those five years had passed, I'd long ago forgotten what I really wanted. I couldn't let this go. There was a magnificent light, but it was now gone.

"Wendy?" I heard Harris ask from behind me. I turned around, hoping my features weren't too worrisome, and nodded, smiling, not being able to find my voice. "Would you come with me, please?" he led me to where the gazebo was, and instant dread started to build up inside my chest.

I could see the hordes of people, waiting to hear how he would pose the question, and most likely how I would say yes. But I could barely focus on the crowd, right now. All I could think of was, _what are you expected to do? And what do you want to do?_ Of course I could answer the first easily, but the second question always caught me.

I have _no_ idea.

"Wendy Darling," Harris began, and right behind him, I saw the light once again. Trying to keep my eyes away from the light was harder than I thought it would be. It floated around, going to either side of the gazebo, until it was out of sight. But I saw a golden glow from behind me. Why was no one else seeing this? "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

That was it. No, I cannot live without you, or you are my life, or I am nothing without you. Nothing. It was all about being honored. And keeping the family traditions alive. And starting a new generation of the family. Nothing about passion or romance. Unbelievable. And I was expected to say yes?

I understand that being nineteen, and not married would make me a spinster. And therefore, would make marriage nearly impossible for me in the future. And that my face won't last. And that he is a Lord, and I'm supposed to accept any offer from him. But what was expected of me, meant very little. Almost nothing.

I looked at him, straight in the face, still not entirely certain of what I would say. I glanced out at the crowd and saw everyone. I saw Harris' parents looking at us expectantly. Allie, looking confused, probably wondering why I haven't said anything yet. And I saw my mother. I could practically hear her saying, "This could help us enhance our survival. We need this."

"Well, you are a Lord. I'm supposed to accept any offers from you. I will be considered a spinster. Time will move forward, and my face won't last. But . . ." I looked at the crowd again, and took my hands out of the grasp of Harris', and looked out to the crowd to say, "I . . . I think I need a moment."

_Sorry, Mother._

For the second time today, I ran.

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**Well, what did you think? Honest opinions, please. Here's the drill we all know by heart. Please review! Thanks for reading, I'll get back as soon as I can.**

**~Sincerely, Savannah**

**P.S. thanks so much, again, to my first reviewers. And thanks a lot to Hyperrandomgurl101 for being the very first person to add me to their author alert and favorite story! To MythScavenger for being the first person to add me as a story alert. And to my first reviewer, (I'm not exactly sure if you would want me to put your name here, but hopefully you know who you are). I wanted to jump up and down screaming when I got the e-mails! Thanks so much to everyone who reviews!**


	3. Falling

**Author's Note: Another long day, staring at a keyboard, waiting for the right words to come to me. Of course, I had to stay plugged into my music library all day for help. And finally it came to me!**

**I know the last chapter was more of Alice in Wonderland than Peter Pan. But now, I'm going to try and even it out. Give them both 50/50. Let's hope this works. **

**Now, here's the story!**

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**_Falling_**

_I've fallen out of favor, and I've fallen from grace._

_Fallen out of trees, and I've fallen on my face._

_Fallen out of taxis, and out of windows too._

_Fell in your opinion when I fell in love with you._

_Sometimes I wish for __**Falling**__, wish for the release._

_Wish for __**Falling**__ through the air to give me some relief._

_Because falling's not the problem, when I'm __**Falling**__ I'm at peace._

_It's only when I hit the ground, it causes all the grief. _

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall._

_If there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all._—Florence and the Machine

Running. It felt good. Feeling the warm early afternoon air rush past my face, and blow my tied up hair, swaying it. I didn't care if they were all scowling at me. Or how rude my quick escape must have been. I actually didn't even plan on running. The words left my mouth before I could even take in what I was saying. And when I finally realized what I had said, I already started running away from the party.

Most girls in my position would have said yes in a heartbeat. The thought of marrying a Lord would be the only thought running through their minds. It would have made them blind to anything else about the man that was kneeling in front of them. Any other girl wouldn't have seen that the man wasn't in love with them. The man only admired them. Nothing more. It would have been a kind of abuse that no one could see in the features of the woman. Being tied to a man, who could never really feel any kind of strong emotion for them.

This was the thought that made me move my feet faster than I ever would have if it was another circumstance.

I could see that I was in the maze that I was just walking through with Matilda not too long ago. I pushed aside branches that were growing astray from the hedges they were supposed to be confined in. Green was just a haze in my peripheral vision, as I ran past it. My eyes remaining focused on the opening in the maze that would lead me to a way out. Once I stepped through the opening I saw that the square where the dancers were just ten minutes ago, was completely empty—apparently it was literal when _everyone_ at the party was going to watch the engagement happening. Even though I was out of the maze, I didn't stop running, or even slow down. I knew no one would follow me, even though my mother would internally debate coming after me or not—and she wouldn't—I still kept up my fast pace. I wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible. As far as possible.

I turned a wide right when I reached the back of the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the stables not too far from where I was. And I was already headed for that direction. I saw this as an obvious sign that I was meant to leave this place, if even for five minutes. Just to clear my head and figure out what I would want to say to Harris, preferably without cursing in the answer.

I searched the stable for a horse that was already settled—I didn't want to waste time having to put one on. Once I found one, I heaved myself up on to the seat—one leg on each side—and pressed my heels into the sides of the white stallion, and it took off. I barely noticed which direction it was going in, and I didn't care. As long as I was getting far away.

I could tell when I reached the end of the garden, and started riding into disowned territory. Avoiding the tightly packed forest, I steered the horse to ride along the edge of the woods. Not too far from where I was, I heard the sounds of rushing water. _When I reach the river, I would stop the horse,_ I thought to myself. The forest was thinning out beside me, and it wouldn't be long until there was no border line of a forest to follow. The sounds of rushing water were becoming sharper, more definite. If I looked close enough, I could just make out the edge of the water where it met land. Making an effort to slow the horse down, I eased the pressure from my heels, digging into its sides, slowly loose. When the stallion came to a full stop, I pushed myself off the seat, and started walking towards the water, while the horse started roaming the clearing.

Everything that had happened mere minutes ago, came rushing back to me. I was proposed to. By a Lord. I couldn't say yes, so I ran before I said anything that would have made my family more of a source of poor gossip. And now I was in the middle of a clearing, God knows where, and what do I want to do? No, not cry. Not sulk. I wanted to scream! To just shout at nothing in particular and say everything that I would've said if it wasn't for society, and the 'requirements of women.' And so, that's exactly what I did.

"I can still think for myself, you know!" I shouted to the air around me. No one could hear me, so it wouldn't really matter what I said. "I'm not some effing mindless woman, who needs a Lord that can provide for her! I'm perfectly capable of handling myself; something that _some_ people need to learn how to do, bitches!" I aimed that last one at Matilda specifically. I mean, she would have gone on and one all day about what Harris needs in his daily life. Like I give a damn.

I mean, when would any of this matter? Am I going to regret not staying in my place in the gazebo to say yes? I don't think so. When any of us are minutes away from death, it's not going to matter if we married a Lord who could never really love us, or how high in society we were, or if we listened to the ridiculous 'requirements of women' to wore those murderous corsets—which would probably get us to our deathbed that much sooner. None of this could ever possibly matter outside our own little perfect world. Or their own world, I should say. No way in hell do I want to be a part of that.

I sighed in aggravation. I could yell and shout all I want, but where is that really going to get me? The pathway to an aching throat, that's where. Looking out at the water I saw how wide and open it was. Magnificent. There were no boundaries, or border lines for miles. No matter how hard I looked, I couldn't even make out an outline of any island that could be harboring unknown and uncharted. I bent down, the ground beneath my feet was partially grass but there was sand acting as soil. Cautiously—and don't ask me why I was being cautious—I dipped my hand into the water. It was crystal clear, you could make out every line on my hands, and it felt very soothing. Very calm and cool, almost refreshing. I closed my eyes, and this time I sighed in content.

It lasted for about a moment, when I saw a very bright, golden light shining through my eyelids. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw the exact same golden light that I saw in the gardens. It was gliding over the water, barely touching the surface when it started rising higher and higher. It came hovering towards me, and I could feel my eyes widen. Something about this light seemed beyond familiar. Racking my brains for anything that could give me a clue as to what this light was to me. All that came up was a dream. My only dream. But how could that have anything to do with this mystical light? _I have no idea. It may be a good idea to follow it and find out,_ I thought to myself as I saw the light was slowly moving away. Hastily, I pulled myself off the ground and started following the light not really paying attention to where it was leading me. It was only until I noticed that my feet were in the shallow end of the water, where it wasn't exactly shore yet.

"What, are you trying to lead me to a drowning death?" I asked the light, not expecting an answer of course. It went back to gliding over the water nearly three feet from me, and I could have sworn it was trying to spell out 'No' as it was gently going over the water. Impossible. It was just a trick of the golden light with the sunlight. Obviously, the two weren't supposed to mix together.

A somewhat loud rustle in the branches of the woods sounded louder than it would have if the wind blew them. I turned around, expecting to see the horse walking among the edge of the trees, but no. I saw nothing. Just another rustle if the branches. _Birds, it's just birds. You're getting too paranoid for your own good, Wendy. _I tried to take comfort in this logical explanation, but it didn't give me much solace to go on or peace of mind. I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me, but I saw no face, much less a body, for the eyes to belong to. Paranoia always made people feel this way, right? Of course it did.

I turned back to the light, which was still floating above the water going around in circles now, and asked it, "So that was my answer then?" referring to when I thought I saw it had written a no on the water. Of course I hadn't expected the light to do anything; I didn't even know if it could understand me, or if it was even real for that matter. But of course, like all other things that were going unplanned today, this light made an unexpected twist. It dived into the water, leaving ripples as the only evidence it was even there.

_Follow it, _a voice said to me. And it wasn't the same one that's been inside my head all day. It was definitely something else. Without even think about it, I followed the light into the water, not caring if I was getting my clothes wet. Diving under the surface when the water reached my chest, I opened my eyes in the cold water and saw that the light had been waiting for me to come down. It started swimming away, but I followed it this time, not wanting it to get out of my sight. The mysterious light led me deeper and deeper into the water, and soon I found I no longer had need for air. When we reached a darker place of the water is when I started to get a little worried. I was instantly reminded of when I felt eyes piercing me from wherever the hell they were coming from.

It was finally when we reached a deep navy blue color of the water that I really started thinking, _I'm following a light, that for all I know probably doesn't even exist, into the deepest part of water I've ever been in, and it could possibly be leading me to my death. Yeah, no worries at all. _

When the light took me to the very bottom of the navy blue abyss, I saw a pitch black hole that had rocks and shell gatherings as a frame around the hole. This was around the time that the fact that I've been underwater for nearly fifteen minutes hasn't bothered my lungs, really started bothering me.

The light dived into the hole fearlessly, and its golden glow was lost to the darkness. I sat on the ocean floor for about a minute when the light came back out of the darkness. I could see that it was beckoning me to come forward but I just shook my head. Once again the light fearlessly plunged into the dark hole._ Fearlessly, hmm . . . alright, fine!_ I mentally told the light, too afraid to open my mouth of the fear that my lungs would remember they should be inhaling air right now.

I took the plunge into the dark unknown, and then unbelievably, I was falling. Not it water either. In pure fresh air.

It didn't even look like an ocean hole should have. It looked more like a hole that came out of the earth. It was made out of soil, and I could see bits and pieces of junk within the soil; screws, mismatching shoes, springs. How was any of this possible? I let out a scream that I was absolutely a hundred percent positive no one could have a hope of hearing. Without even noticing what was happening, I hit a bed that did nothing but just bounce me off and farther into the hole. I could feel that my hair had let loose, and it was flying all out in front of me. The earthen walls of the hole rushed past me as I fell deeper and deeper.

I tried to look and find the bottom of the hole, but it just seemed endless. Never ending. And it wasn't even how much farther I had to fall. It was more of the landing and where it would be. That was the only part that really scared me.

The air became denser and it was harder to breathe, not only for the fact that I was falling, but because this air I was now reaching was just harder to breath.

I could feel the walls of the hole narrowing down to create a separator from the first part of the hole to the second part. I fell through the smaller hole, and exact reinvention of the first, and I landed face first on a moist dirt and grass mixed earthen ground.

Slowly, and deliberately I sat up on to my knees and looked around. I was in something that looked like a vast tree trunk, only it was big enough to be considered a small home. Which is what the inhabitants had done, I could tell easily by looking around at the several beds set against the walls and corners of the trunk. I saw, almost in the exact middle of the trunk was an elegant looking black table that seemed entirely out of place. On the table was a rustic looking worn brass key. I looked around for a door that the key could go to and found a rather small one. It wouldn't be completely unbearable to go through, but most likely it would be rather uncomfortable. I picked up the key off the table, and walked over to the unusually small door. Sticking the key through the lock on the door, I heard a sound of shifts as the lock became undone. I pushed hard against the door—it seemed to be rusted stuck—and I fell through the doorway once the door gave away.

I looked around where I was now. I was in a jungle, it seemed. Although in the distance, I could make out a tall iron gate that was already open. So this couldn't be a jungle if there was a gate . . . could it? This was too . . . otherworldly. This couldn't be possible, ever. I was in a mystical jungle that seemed anything other than real, and it had this sense of wonder in it.

Odd.

"Wendy!" I heard two voices pipe up from behind me. I turned my head and then the rest of my body to see two twin boys around the age of ten, dressed in what looked like earth made clothes. Something about these boys seemed so familiar, just like the light. And like the light, my reoccurring dream came to mind when I tried to think of why. Although I just pushed the thought away once again. And, where was that damn light anyway?

"We can't believe your back!" one of the twins said, pulling me out of my stupor.

"We thought it would be years before you came back!" the other twin said.

I could feel a shocked and confused look on my face. Not that the boys noticed. But why were they talking to me like they knew me?

And then at the same time, in perfect sync, they said, "Welcome back, Wendy!"

I was right. I should have been afraid of where the landing would be. If I hadn't had landed, I wouldn't be as lost as I was right now.

* * *

**Well there it is! Of course the ideas never became clear to me until it was almost two in the morning, keeping me up for the extra hours. Not that I mind. **

**And here it is, the same thing I'm going to ask of you until this story is done. Please, please review! Thank you so much!**

**I'll be back soon!**

**~Sincerely, Savannah**


	4. The Dog Days Are Over

**Author's Note: **_**Disclaimer: I do not own the workings of Peter Pan, or any of the ideas that came from Alice in Wonderland, 2010. This goes for all previous chapters, and chapters to come.**_

**Sorry it's been longer than usual, but I have this thing where I can't write unless the right song is playing. Then this song started playing on my shuffle, and the chorus stuck with me, so I figured it was a sign.**

**And I probably should have said this earlier, but the way the 2003 version of this movie ended, I'm just going to pretend that the Lost Boys stayed in Neverland. **

**And I wanted to give a big thanks to the reviews I've received so far. They have literally made my day.**

**And now, I give you the story!**

* * *

**_ The Dog Days are Over_**

_Happiness hit her like a train track._

_Coming towards her, stuck still, no turning back._

_She hid around corners and she hid under beds._

_She killed it with kisses, and from it she fled._

_With every bubble, she sat with a drink._

_And washed it away down the kitchen sink._

_**The Dog Days are Over.**_

_The dog days are done._

_The horses are comin' so you better run._

_Run fast for your mother,_

_Run fast for your father._

_Run for your children,_

_All your sisters and brothers._

_Leave all you're loving and you're longing behind._

_You can't carry it with you, if you want to survive._—Florence and the Machine

I stared into the blue eyes of the twin boys. They're words replaying in my mind over and over again. _Welcome back, Wendy! _Welcome back? Back where?

"Back where?" I asked them, confusion filling my voice. The grins that were nearly covering their faces before were instantly washed away. Their faces fell, and astonishment filled their eyes.

"You mean you don't remember?" one of the twins asked.

"What is there to remember?" I asked; why were they giving me such cryptic statements.

The twins looked at each other. I could tell they were silently asking a question, although there was no possible answer.

"Is she—?"

"I don't know."

"She doesn't remember."

"Could she be the right one?"

They murmured to each other, seeming to know what the other was thinking. Then they both nodded, "Excuse us for a second, Miss." The twins nodded towards me and then turned around and walked the other way into the bushes of over growing greens and exotic flowers.

"What the hell?" I asked myself quietly. I was completely mystified with this place. I heard low whispers coming from the bushes. I figured the two boys weren't alone so maybe I should take a couple steps back—especially if the others were going to question me about this place that I was positive I've never been in.

Slowly turning around, I walked in the moist soil of pebbles, and luscious deep pine grass. I passed by the tree trunk that served as a home, most likely to the boys and whoever they were with. Just over my head, I saw two lights fly by me—just like the one that led me into the ocean and down the hole. They went by so fast, I could only see a silver light, and a gold light speeding away, leaving a trail of glitter in their wake.

"Curiously curious," I sighed watching the bright lights slowly fade into the dense forest. _How stranger could this place get? And how many more of those lights are there?_

This must all be a dream. That's the only reason why everything is reminding me of the reoccurring dream. The strange land I was in, the tree trunk, the twin boys, the mysterious lights always floating around. It was all just a continuation of the dream I've been having since I was twelve. Unbelievable. I didn't know if I should be enthralled that I was _finally _having a different dream, or horrified at how much more outlandish this dream is. I looked around me once again, _Yeah, definitely a dream. _

"SHE CAN'T REMEMBER!" I heard a voice shout and jumped slightly. With the quiet of the forest, the voice sounded even louder than it would have anywhere else.

"Then maybe she's the wrong Wendy . . ." I heard another voice offer.

"HOW CAN SHE NOT REMEMBER THIS?" the first voice shouted, obviously still in his own settled mind, and ignoring the other.

"Just come and see her," the sound of the twins' voice said.

"What do we do if it's not her?" a new voice asked.

There was no answer to that question, only the sound of footsteps moving through the obstacle that the forest has to offer. I started backing away very slowly, careful not to make a sound, and hoping not to trip over my own feet. I could feel me feet squish in the soft dirt beneath me, and the pressure of pebbles pressing against my shoes. It wasn't long before six boys came out of the forest, all of them dressed as if they came straight from out of the trees.

The twins look one look at me, and turned to the others, "We told you she was the right Wendy."

"I am not convinced," the boy who said that I could be the wrong Wendy, said.

"She doesn't look anything like the old Wendy," another piped up.

"That's because she's the wrong Wendy," the first boy said.

"But she said she was Wendy," one of the twins defended.

"Actually she never really said that," the other twin admitted.

"But if she wasn't, she would have said she wouldn't be," the first twin said.

"Unless she's the wrong one," the second twin replied.

"Wait a minute," I said, attempting to hold off the ranting. "How can I be the wrong Wendy, if this is my dream?" They all stared at me with wide eyes as if it was incredible I could even talk. "And who are you?"

"Oh, well I'm Marmaduke and he's Binky," the first twin replied, motioning towards his brother.

"I'm Curly," the one who was shouting about how I could not remember, said.

"Nibs," the one who asked what would happen if I was not her, answered.

"I'm Slightly," said the one who commented that I looked nothing like Wendy.

"And I'm Tootles, Miss. At your service," answered the one who said I could be the wrong Wendy.

"You idiot, why would you tell her you were at her service, if we don't know if she's the right Wendy?" Curly asked.

"It's being polite, which is something that he said to do if we came across her," Tootles answered.

"But we don't know if she's the right Wendy," Slightly said in an exasperated voice.

"Maybe we should consult with the crazy one . . ." Nibs offered in a hopeful voice.

All of the boys considered this, "But he said not to go to the crazy one unless we _had_ to. We're still not sure if the crazy one can be completely trusted," Slightly said.

Who were all of these people? The crazy one? Him? What kind of ghastly place have I fallen into?

"A young woman has just shown up out of nowhere, claiming to be Wendy, and we're not sure if it's the real thing or not. And you're saying that we _don't_ have to see the crazy one?" Tootled said walking up to Slightly, probably hoping to emphasize his point.

"The most we can do is see what the crazy one has to say," Nibs said, siding with Tootles.

"Alright, we'll take her to the crazy one," Curly confirmed, obviously just having had made up his mind about which side to go on.

"Okay, I'll escort you," Binky said, walking up to me and taking my arm.

"Oh please, it's not been my turn," Marmaduke said, taking my other arm.

"Leave off!" Binky said, tugging me to the left.

"Let go!" Marmaduke snapped, going to the right.

"Are they always this way?" I asked, as they both lead me into the forest following the others, god knows where.

Honestly, what the hell kind of place did I fall into?

* * *

It wasn't long before it felt like we were miles into the forest with no hope of having direct sunlight. The twins had settled by just walking beside me, without pulling me in every opposite direction.

In the distance I heard a faint twinkling sound. Almost like the sound of jingling keys, but not annoying. The sound was almost harmonious.

I looked around to see where this sudden melodious sound came from, only to find that golden light that led me into this hell damned place. Only I could see it wasn't just a light. There was an actual body hanging in the air that the gold had enveloped earlier. A small girl, no bigger than my hand, was dressed in a short pine green dress that seemed to have been made out of the leaves around me, with a silver lining throughout the dress. And her _wings_—nothing else could possibly surprise me—were mystifyingly gorgeous. Shades of purples, pinks, blues, and greens went through the wings until they came to an end. With what seemed to be the structure of twigs going through them.

"Impossible . . ." I sighed looking at the thing speeding towards us, leaving a trail of glittery dust behind.

"Hey Tink, what's the hurry?" Slightly asked the flying girl as she got closer.

"What is that?" I asked more to myself in a whisper that I thought no one would hear. Apparently I was wrong.

"Oh that's Tinker Bell, she's a fairy," Binky answered, "She went on her own a couple years ago. Now she just tells us if trouble is coming."

"You idiot, why would you tell her that? We still don't know if she's the right Wendy," Marmaduke scolded him.

I was barely half listening to their rant, only staring at Tinker Bell. _So familiar._ Then something registered. "But there are no such thi—"

I stopped abruptly when they all stopped looking at Tinker Bell and looked at him in honest disbelief, and raised their arrows and daggers at me. Confusion is all that could fill my mind.

"Don't say that!" Curly nearly yelled at me.

"What?" the confusion really getting to me.

"That thought you were just about to say."

"Why?" okay, this was getting ridiculous.

"You really don't know do you?" Tootles asked me in utter astonishment.

"Know what?" I asked in an exasperated tone.

"Every time someone, somewhere, says that thing you were just about to say, a fairy somewhere, dies," he answered me, his eyes suddenly going dark as if he was reliving a dark memory.

Utter silence.

"So, what's the trouble Tink?" Nibs asked, obviously desperate for a distraction to pull his friend out of his stupor.

The fairy leaned into Nibs' ear to tell him something, her voice was next to silent. There was no sound around us except for the sound of ringing bells coming from Tinker Bell. Nibs shook his head in an answer to something she asked him. He glanced over at me with anxious eyes. I moved my eyes between the two, wondering what it was, exactly, she was telling him.

"THEY'RE COMING _HERE_?" Nibs shouted a few minutes later, jumping back.

"Who's coming?" Tootles asked in a nervously anxious voice.

Nibs looked at me, his face paled, and that seemed to be answer enough for the six of them.

"We need to get out of here," Nibs said loudly, and quietly he added, "They have the Bandersnatch."

"The wha—" I was cut off asking, when there was a sound of deep footsteps, almost like a big marching crowd, in the distance getting closer second by second. I looked forward to where the sound was coming from. There were red objects coming closer in a fast, robotic pace. They were marching like soldiers, but they were nothing even close to human. In the midst of them there was an enormous gray beast spotted with black throughout its body and ruffled fur. Its face was nearly covered with a grimacing mouth, which only helped to show all of its teeth. And its eyes looked like they would have been a crystal blue if there wasn't a grayish haze over them, making the eyes almost murky. Odd.

My eyes widened in shock and I could feel Tootles looking at me, sensing that I was wishing that I had never fallen down that hole, and he said "Try to stay together and RUN!"

That pulled all of us out of our trances and made us move out feet. I spun around and felt the squishing of moist soil beneath my feet while I dodged roots popping that had grown out of the ground. And pushed away any leaves and flowers that would hit me in the face. I only stopped when I hit a dead end that went straight over a small cliff. _Great, another falling experience. _I looked down, it wasn't far, but it was far enough to not make me want to jump.

I could feel my eyes widen when I heard the sound of a loud, gasping growl. I turned around to see that the beast was coming closer, and the red creatures—which I could now see looked like red poker cards wearing armor—looked as if they were ready to attack.

"We need to keep her out of their sight," Slightly said, only loud enough for us to hear. And all I could think was, _Why?_

Tootles began running towards me, along with Nibs and they started leading me along the edge of the cliff away from the attackers. I looked over my shoulder and saw that the red soldier cards had thrown a net to catch the twins, and I let out a small gasp in despair, but this just made Tootles and Nibs get me to run faster. I heard a cry come from Curly, they probably caught him too.

"Get the other one!" I heard a voice shout. Most likely he was talking about Slightly, at least they still hadn't caught him. I don't know why, but the thought of whoever the hell these people were trying to catch any of these boys had me fuming. I was effing pissed off, and baffled beyond belief.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the gray beast was unleashed . . . _well fuck._

"Lead him away from her," Tootles commanded Nibs to do, and they both ran off leaving me still running along the side of the cliff.

I stopped dead when I heard the sound of crunching and saw that Slightly had thrown one of the red cards in the path of the beast. Apparently that gray thing had no idea who he was taking orders from, and he was too open minded to realize who he was killing. I saw Tootles and Nibs be thrown aside by the red cards, but Nibs had pulled out his knife and threw it, at a perfect angle, so it would hit the two cards square in the chest.

The beast was no longer tied under anyone, with no strand of control to keep him down, he came running after me and I started running again. Faster than I had when running from the public proposal, but then I stopped. If this was a dream then nothing can hurt me. This beast wouldn't be able to kill me. Nothing can hurt me here. I turned around and faced the beast face on and waited for it to come. A strong wind blew into my face when he let out a earsplitting roar.

"Nothing can hurt me here," I told myself again in a shaky voice, trying to reassure the goose bumps that had grown on my arm.

The thing let out another thunderous rumble when it was mere yards from my face. It started waving its arms in the air like it was clawing for something, and I saw that it still had a chain around his neck holding him back. I didn't move, but I should have. His arms were starting to move even crazier than before, and his claws hit my upper arm, just before my shoulder, causing a deep gash with dark blood slowly coming out of the fresh wound. I let out a scream at the pain—yeah, I probably should have seen that coming—then I started running to go behind the trees. I barely had the chance to duck behind one before the beast let out another cry, this time he was crying in pain as well. Nibs, most likely seeing my escape as a distraction to the beast, threw his knife at its eye, causing the murky blue eyeball to come right out along with the knife. Tootles caught the knife then ran towards the tree where I was hiding. He took my wrist in his hand and made sure Nibs was behind us, and he led us back to the cliff. We looked back at the retreating forms of the red cards, and the gray beast, along with their new captives.

I could see grief and sadness on both their faces, as they watched our attackers take away their friends, brothers. And then in an instant it was gone.

They turned me around to face the cliff, and they threw us off the edge.

Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Not a chance in hell. The old days were definitely done. I took another fall, only this time I knew the landing was going to be dangerous.

* * *

**And there it is! So sorry, again, for the longer wait. I've already started the next chapter so it shouldn't be long.**

**And just to say, this chapter was especially dedicated to my sister for her Birthday! **

**Anyway, please review. Let me know if it's getting too Alice in Wonderland, because then I'll switch this into a crossover. And just leave your opinions, what you think, anything!**

**Thank you for reading! I'll be back sooner this time!**

**~Sincerely Savannah**


	5. Glitter in the Air

**Author's Note: Okay, I keep asking myself this, but why is it that I can only write when it's night. I **_**cannot**_** write during the day. It's like, when the sun is going down, my mind starts reeling with possible ideas and when I can finally sit down to write without anyone coming to interrupt me, it's about one in the morning. And then I can't go to sleep unless I finish the chapter. It's insane! **

**So anyway, thank you for the Story Alerts I've received. That literally made me jump into my writing mode, and when I'm in that, it's pretty hard to come out. **

**Now, I have a feeling that this is becoming a little more Alice, at least with the dialogue anyway—and maybe some of the creatures. But I'm going to definitely make up for that.**

**And now, here's chapter five.**

* * *

**_ Glitter in the Air_**

_Have you ever fed a lover, with just your hands?_

_Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?_

_Have you ever thrown a fistful of __**Glitter in the Air**__?_

_Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, "I just don't care"?_

_It's only half past the point of no return._

_The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn._

_The thunder before the lightening, the breath before the freeze._

_Have you ever felt this way?_

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_It's only half past the point of oblivion._

_The hour glass on the table, the walk before the run._

_The breath before the kiss, and the fear before the flames._

_Have you ever felt this way?—_Pink

We hit the ground _hard._ The shorter fall was an even worse landing than the fall down the ocean hole. There was literally a thunderous thud when we hit the ground, echoing off all the trees.

We lay there in a heap for a couple of minutes trying to get over the shock of the fall, and then dealing with the pain. I had the air knocked out of me for a few seconds, when I landed on my stomach. Then the sting of my new wound began throbbing, especially when that part of my arm hit a rock on the way down—making even more blood come out. I lifted my head to look for anything that could tie around the wound, and put a hold on the blood. There was nothing.

And then the massive headache started coming.

I heard the boys sighing and gasping for air when they tried to sit up, while I couldn't even move. Tootles was nearly in a standing position already—I could tell he was more used to this kind of thing—while Nibs was still trying to keep himself from falling over. I sighed when air was able to move through my lungs easily again, and then I attempted a sitting position. _Not so bad. _Sitting on my knees for a minute more, I was gasping for air from the pain everywhere else on my body.

"We need to get moving," Tootles said, looking up at the sky. It had gone from the clear blue it was earlier to more of a twilight scenery. Light shades of pinks, and oranges and yellows reflected the sun off the clouds, mixing with the blue in the sky. It was breathtaking.

How long have I been here? It couldn't have been just mere hours. It felt much longer than that.

"Where do you suppose we go from here?" Nibs asked, finally getting himself to stand.

"We'll have to go through the forest," Tootles answered, looking ahead.

How could that have been an answer? There must be a million different forests here. But apparently this was answer enough, and not a good one, because Nibs shuddered. _What is it with these strange people and places here?_

"Search the grounds for them. I need ALL of them!" we heard a voice command, followed by more of the marching sounds of metal hitting a hard ground covered with rocks.

"Hurry! We need to hurry!" Tootles said, pulling me up to my feet, and leading me in the direction he was looking at earlier.

And that was when I finally needed some answers. "Where are we going?"

"The Forest of Cheshire," Tootles answered, leading me through a patch of weedy trees, that almost looked completely dead compared to where we were before we jumped off the cliff.

"This is a forest?" I asked, still following them through the lifeless patch of elapsed trees.

"This is the way to the forest," Nibs answered, and I was shocked with their patience.

We ran a little further into the dead woods, and when it finally began to thin out, and there were only a few barely colored, green less tree trunks spread out, on what could have been mistaken for a concrete ground, when really it was beyond dead grass. Not even brown from wilting, just a gray flat grass that held nothing but despair.

"Why are we going there?" I asked, still running, and skipping the question, what is it?

"Because near the end of the forest in where the Crazy One is. And only he could tell us if you're the right Wendy," Tootles answered me, staying focused on where we were going as if he looked away it would disappear.

We began to slow down as we reached a fork in the road type situation, that I had a feeling neither of them were prepared for. I looked at the two boys who stood on each side of me, both of them had their eyes widen with the decision. I could tell that these two had never come to a disagreement, until now.

"I think it's left," Nibs offered looking ahead of him and squinting his eyes.

"Don't be daft; it's got to be right. Everything is always right," Tootles argued, sounding not entirely sure of himself.

"Well which way is it?" Nibs asked, still looking ahead.

I looked at the two boys, turning my head left and right, and then looked ahead. What was the difference? Either way looked the same.

There was a sudden change in the sound of the wind. As if it suddenly got stronger, although the two were probably too busy bickering to notice the sound. I could feel an actual breeze coming from behind me, blowing my hair forward. I turned around to see where this new sudden wind was coming from.

"What the bloody hell is that?" I asked in slight wonder, slight fright. There was a gigantic bird flying towards us in a rapid and graceful movement. It's red and white feathers were being blown back by the momentum of the flight, and the slightly brown claws that seemed to be getting closer to the ground were now opening up.

At the sound of my voice, the boys turned around to see what I was talking about. Both of their faces were aghast.

"Jolly . . . Roger . . ." Nibs was saying in a quiet voice, I almost couldn't hear him.

"Wendy, you _have_ to promise me something," Tootles was saying and continued before I could nod my head, "You must do whatever it takes to stay alive. Find the Forest of Cheshire, and then find the Crazy One. He'll know what to do. Trust no one. You have to make sure you stay alive!" he told me in a hurried voice. I could only nod while staring at the thing flying towards us. "And one more thing, Wendy," I looked at him to my right when he said, "Duck!"

I bent to my knees going out of the way the bird was reaching. It's claws grabbed hold of both the boys and it took off, leaving dirt flying around like dust after you take out a hundred-year-old book from its shelf and blow across its surface.

I stood up and watched the sky, and the fast disappearing forms of the bird and the boys. I looked back at the fork in the road. _Left, it had to be left._ Because, considerably, right was always the right way to go. Therefore people would always try to trick someone into going right, when the actual way to go was left. And nothing here could ever possibly be right, so for everything here to really be right, it would all simply have to be wrong. Which would be left, the wrong way to go in most cases.

_What the bloody effin' hell are you talking about?_

I think I've officially lost my mind. or having a quiet nervous breakdown. Either one could be possible here.

"Left," I told myself, and started heading in that direction. _How would I know when I've reached the Forest Of Cheshire? And who is the Crazy One I'm supposed to find? _How on earth was I supposed to do this?

Was there supposed to be a sudden burst of knowledge when I reach the place? Was I supposed to magically know that I've reached the certain forest? There could be millions of forests here, and I'm supposed to tell which one it is? How the fuck is that possible?

* * *

Apparently it is possible to find a certain forest here. A sign. A very abused and faded and cracked up and hellish looking sign. A sign that just happened to say, 'Here lays the Forest of Cheshire. BEWARE of what lies beyond.' Well that's comforting. And where the hell would a sign have come from here?

And there was a great difference to this forest from the last one I was in, and the one before that. It was just . . . greener; more luscious, with that sweet smell of unknown plants, and moist leaves and moss. And the sound of a recent rain shower was lingering with the echoing of rain drops falling from the leaves. With a shallow stream running through the whole thing.

Much more mystical than the other forests, in a good way for once. Only, there was a sign that said, 'BEWARE,' and that put a darker edge to everything I saw.

I followed the stream, which had a reflection of green in it, and walked along the shallow water for a while. The forest seemed endless ahead. And the sky was darkening above, although the rainy woods I was in, made the entire land seem darker. I jumped and turned my head at every small sound I heard. The sound of crunching twigs, falling rocks, branches swaying. Everything. I felt I was getting beyond the point of paranoia.

It seemed way beyond nightfall when I looked up at the sky again, and I saw a full moon shining through the trees and branches, creating shadows across my body. Even after how long I've been walking, there still doesn't seem to be an end to the forest. Not even a clearing miles ahead to show that there is a way out of this tunnel of moss covered trees.

I sighed at the thought of never being able to escape the place.

A few minutes later, and I was still walking along the shallow stream, I heard the faint sound of jingling bells that were playing almost in harmony so they would sound like a perfect playing melody.

I had heard that sound before.

When there was a warning coming. Only now, why was I hearing the sound?

I turned my head to see a golden globe gliding towards me at a fast paste. When it got closer, I saw the same small blonde girl enveloped in the golden light I had seen earlier. She was hovering over the stream when she reached me. Her sparkling dust looked like someone had thrown a handful of glitter in the air where her trail was.

"You? You're the one who led me down that hole. Why?" I asked, my voice filled with accusations. I was tired of not knowing why I was here, and why everyone kept referring to me as the 'wrong Wendy' or the 'right Wendy.' I _needed_ some answers.

"Because, it was time for you to come back," Tinker Bell answered is a soft innocent voice. The kind of voice that sounded more beautiful than wind chimes, and far more audible than I would've thought.

I stood there shocked for a few more seconds, then asked, "But, back where?"

"You really don't know where you are?"

"Why does everyone keep expecting me to know what this place is? I've never been here in my life! I don't know you, or who the Crazy One is, or who the boys are, or what the bloody hell that beast was. I just don't know!"

"How can that be?"

I just stared at her, breathing heavily. "What is it about this place that is so special for me to remember?"

Tinker Bell took her eyes away from mine, and looked down at her reflection in the water. Then her eyes roved up to where my wounded shoulder was, "Oh my. You're hurt! Let me take care of that." She picked up a long leaf and blew across it. Her glittery dust blew across the surface of the green leaf before she came closer to my shoulder. Tying the leaf gently around the gash, she knotted it tightly so it didn't have a hope in coming undone.

"Thank you," I whisper as she floats back to admire her handiwork.

I can see a smile on her face as she looks up at my eyes again. After a few seconds, a frown overtakes the smile, and a crease of worry grows upon her forehead.

"How could you not remember this place?" she asks, looking into my eyes.

"Because I've never been here," I answer in a soft whisper.

"But you have to be the right 'her'. I can tell by the look in your eyes. They always looked that way. Curiously confused but yet mystified. Only now there is something different to them. Sadness; why is that?"

I turn my gaze away from hers. Hoping she'll get the message that I don't want to tell her anything about the still apparent sadness in my eyes.

"I can tell you do remember here. Somehow, you must. It must at least seem familiar," she says to me.

"I'm sorry. But I don't have any idea of what you're talking about," I look back to her eyes.

"How can that be?" she asks again, more to herself this time. The worry crease deepening. Tinker Bell looks around and says in a startled voice, "Oh my, we must get you to him. He'll know the answer for sure. Follow me."

Tinker Bell starts flying in a different direction than where I've been going. I begin to hesitate at first, not knowing if I should really trust the same fairy who led me down a hole into this God unknown place, but eventually I follow her, running to keep up. She leads me into a more lightened area then where I've been, and I soon see a clearing—a way out of the mossy maze I've been stuck in for Lord knows how long.

She leads me to the end of the Forest of Cheshire and I see a sudden, out of place, wooden, beaten up, long dining table with cracks in it. There are various pieces of China set along the table, mismatching, and uneven chairs along the sides. There is a man with short white hair on his head, and his face looks like it's been permanently twisted into a face of shock and insanity—which isn't surprising considering he's talking to a parrot as if he can have a conversation with it. The man is holding a cup of the ruined China that has about a million cracks in it and is chipped all along the edges of the rim, and while taking another sip of whatever the bloody hell it is, he starts jumping up and down in his seat laughing like a sociopath.

"Smee, hand me the sugar," the parrot piped up in a perfectly human voice, although it squawked at the end of his demand.

"You want the damn sugar, I'll give you the damn sugar," the man, Smee said picking up a handful of sugar cubes and throwing them at a teapot with incredible force, making the teapot's handle break off. The man and the bird started laughing at the idiocy of their ways.

"Ah, Tinker Bell. You've made it," a voice said at the end of the table. I didn't notice the man before, being too absorbed in the insanity of the man with the bird. The man at the head of the table had scraggily black hair, with twisted and woven strands stuck together. His eyes were a light blue, like the kind of blue you see in the sky just before the sun rises when its shine is lighting up the entire sky. Other than the beautiful looking eyes, the man looked absolutely mad. His skin was paler than I've ever seen on anyone, and he had shadows under his eyes that looked almost like a light green. The man's smile had a slight craze to it and his arms twitched a little as he gestured around the table. His smile faltered when he gaze met mine.

He looked between me and Tinker Bell, and suddenly an even happier smile—slightly more crazed—appeared across his face. He suddenly stood up from his seat and brought himself up on to the table. He walked across the long piece of furniture like a crazy person, moving his footing around and knocking off various pieces of cups and plates and teapots.

"Wendy! You're here!" he said stepping down from the table and on to the ground kneeling onto the grass a few yards away. "You're back!"

"Wendy?" the man named Smee asked, stopping his laughing suddenly.

"We're not entirely sure it's her though," Tinker Bell said carefully, probably hoping to not get then odd man upset.

The man took one look at me, and squinted his eyes, the twilight blue orbs moving up and down, studying me. They rested on my eyes, and he probably saw the same thing Tinker Bell saw—the thing that distinguishes my eyes from any other pair of brown eyes that could have landed here.

"You're absolutely Wendy, I'd know you anywhere," the man said, adding quietly so no one except me could hear, "You know, you're terribly late."

Questioning must have been in my eyes because Tinker Bell said to the mad man—whom I'm now gathering in the Crazy One, "She actually doesn't remember any of this. You, me, the Lost Boys, Him. Anything; she doesn't remember it."

"Why, my dear, then you _should_ know. I'm Captain James Hook," the mad man said, as if I should recognize the name. And in a way I did. I remembered the name from all of the stories I used to tell my brothers when we were younger. But that can't be possible. _All _of this was a dream.

Although, I knew I was past the point of insanity. And _way_ beyond the point of no return.

* * *

**And there was chapter five. So far, this was definitely one of my favorite chapters because I finally feel like the story is going somewhere. **

**Anyway, please, please review! I promise you, it makes my day. And it convinces me that the story isn't completely boring. Just please, let me know what you think. **

**And just in case you didn't figure it out, I'm just going to pretend that Hook never died at the end. And trust me, his insanity and the way he's acting is going to be explained in the next chapter. **

**I'll see you soon. Promise.**

**~Sincerely, Savannah **


	6. Rangers

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm realizing this is getting to be a little too much Alice in Wonderland 2010, and this was my fear from the very beginning. So, I'm going to fix that. Hopefully I can do this right. **

**And thank you to the reviews I got, they definitely helped, and I appreciate all of them. Thank you very much.**

**And now, here is chapter six!**

* * *

_** Rangers**_

_The paths have been crossed._

_The crumbs are gone and the way, and the way is lost. _

_Melancholy phantoms eye our skins._

_And poisoned apples falling with the wind._

_Hear the sigh of the trees._

_Those who enter here, never leave._

_And the __**Rangers**__ stream out of their cabins._

_They are the hunters, we are the rabbits. _

_And maybe we don't wanna be found._

_Maybe we don't want you tracking us down._

_Further in the hole we go._

_Saddest creature tugging at our clothes._

_Cutting through the twilight, sword in hand._

_Strangers once united against the land._—A Fine Frenzy

This was _not _possible. This _was_ a dream. What else could this have been?

I've seen this man's face before; it would creep up in my reoccurring dream, and his eyes would be a blood red. Then within a flash, his face would be gone. Every time this would happen, my heart beat would start to race just before he would appear, and I would dread the time his face did come. It was almost terrifying enough to actually wake me up, but it never did.

And now, standing in front of the blood eyed man who's haunted my dreams for several years, I didn't feel the racing heart. I didn't start shaking, nor did I felt the need to run away. I've been running since I got here . . . wherever here was. I was tired of running. I was tired of not knowing, and having to ask questions, although I knew I would have to, to get the answers I'm not sure I wanted, but I needed.

I took one more look at the man, Captain . . . James, and his eyes weren't the red I've always seen, I took some solace in that. Although, it wasn't much.

I turned to Tinker Bell, who was still hovering next to my head, watching the man carefully. Why did she have to be conscious of him?

That was when I thought, _Blood red eyes._ As if the answer was hidden within those three words.

"Tinker Bell, who is this man?" I asked her, my voice a little out of breath.

"I believe he just told you his name," she answered easily.

I heard more smashing of glass coming from behind James, and I looked over to see what the other two were doing now. They were just mindlessly throwing glass at each other, making sure they could break all the pieces within reach.

"Wait, STOP!" Smee screeched at the parrot, making Tinker Bell and James look over to see what they were doing. The bird squawked before the man could explain what he was doing, "I need a drink," he said in an unbelievably calm voice after just shouting. He reached under the table and pulled out a glass bottle of rum that was an almost auburn color, and started drinking the liquid straight from the bottle. So that's what was in those cups, it explains a lot.

I was about to say something to Tinker Bell about her comment but I was stopped by another sound of harmonious jingling bells. It was one that sounded completely different from Tinker Bell's, and yet there was something so similar about the two melodies. The sound accompanied a small silvery soft red light that enclosed a small girl, the same size as Tinker Bell, with long, wavy red hair that was left down, and dressed in something that looked similar to Tinker Bell's, although it was all a faded black—almost like a shadow.

"Rosetta! What are you doing all the way over here?" Tinker Bell asked in a terrified voice, her eyes widened in shock.

"Someone had to warn you! The woman's minions are on their way over here," the small fairy, Rosetta, answered; her voice full of disgust when she said, 'The woman'.

What was up with all of these non-descriptive adjectives?

Tinker Bell's face was nothing but shock. That much was clear. Her entire body was shaking with, was fright? Anger? It was too hard to tell.

"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god . . ." she was saying, obviously not being able to put all of her thoughts together to actually make sense. She looked frantically at me and said, "We have to . . . we have to get you away from here. Yes, that's what we need to do," she was saying all of this more to herself. She shakily took her eyes off of me and looked over at James. "You, you need to take her . . . away. Far, enough, away!"

"Trust me, she'll be in good hands," he said with his blue eyes looking at her with a look that said, trust me. The mystical orbs then found my eyes and he gently offered a hand towards me.

"How much distance is there until they get here?" Tinker Bell asked, her voice sounded more frantic than any other person's voice I've heard.

"Not much," Rosetta answered carefully, probably not wanting to set Tinker Bell off. "It's okay, just breathe."

I was filled with hesitation at the thought of accepting the man's hand, but hearing Tinker Bell's rugged breathing, and watching her shiver with fright, was enough to brush away all the fears in me. I reached for the man's hand and had him led me away. James only stopped so suddenly to ask Tinker Bell something, "Where do we find you again?"

"The Hollow," she answered in a rushed, out of breath voice.

"Okay, the Hollow," he repeated to himself, as if he was putting the answer away in a drawer in his mind so he could find it later.

James led me around the long table—which I now saw everything on it turning to a black; the pieces of China that were actually still good had slowly faded into a rusted black where there were scratches, and dents, and parts missing, and the somewhat nice table that was there was turning into a chipped, near death black, wooden carved table—and he took me into the mix of trees and bushes and wild weed-ish plants. He led me through the back parts of the Forest of Cheshire, and through the shallow part of the river I was following for hours before. We were going at a racing speed, although with him and his long legs it was effortless, while I felt like I was being pulled and dragged along like a rag doll.

When we had finally slowed down, I noticed there was no way in hell that we were in the Forest of Cheshire anymore; but some place impossibly far away. I took in the scenery around me, and it wasn't the layout of a forest anymore. It was more like the layout of a lined path. It was a walkway the same size as a road, with trees aligned on both sides. Although that wasn't the odd thing—even though it kind of was for a place like this. On the right side of us there was an actual sun shining, lighting the beauty it was glowing upon. But on our left, there was no light; a gray cloudy sky, with nothing but buildup and buildup of what looked like rain clouds. Where one side had luscious, healthy trees, the other had ones that were barren and looked haunted with roots exposed. Two completely opposite worlds. And the sky directly above us seemed like a meeting place between the two worlds. They were separated neatly, it almost looked like someone had taken a sword and slashed a clean cut for a straight invisible line that kept the two worlds apart. It almost looked like a line of never ending twilight, keeping both places at bay from each other.

"What is this place?" I asked in awe, and astonishment filling my voice.

"This is the crossing place between the two queens," he answered; his face looked almost as haunted as his voice sounded.

I could practically feel shadows lurking to my left. Watching our every move, but not daring to come over. They're eyes felt like lit matches going to my skin, burning a hole with their intense stares. But there was nothing over to our left but a wind blowing our way and rustling the dead branches. Nothing but shadows. It was probably as haunted as it looked.

But I pushed this though away.

We walked some more careful steps down the stretched out path. It was complete silence around us except for the sound of wind moving the branches of trees either dead or alive.

A few minutes more of this heavy silence and I heard James beginning to mumble a random string of words I couldn't even make out. Something about a lost ship, a young boy, and fire. This went on for a few more minutes until his words faded out into a whisper.

"Excuse me?" I asked looking up at his tall form with curiosity swimming around in my eyes.

"Excuse what?" he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

I sent him a confused glare which he took lightly.

He looked at me again, the mischief gone in his eyes. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"No," I answered honestly. When have I ever crossed paths with this man?

"Do you have any idea where you are?"

"The . . . the crossing place of . . . the two queens . . . ?"

"No, I mean, where you are in general?"

I shook my head slowly; that was the question I've been trying to get answered since I got here.

"Incredible . . ." he sighed in a voice that made it seem like anything other than 'incredible'.

I gave him a look that told him, he might as well start explaining now. Thankfully he understood this one. He stopped walking and turned to face me. In a wondrous voice he answered, "Your in Neverland."

. . . . . . . . What the bloody hell?

I knew that word was supposed to strike a chord with me, but it didn't. The meaning was vague, the place itself was nonexistent in a single memory. What was so significant about this place that I was supposed to know?

The oddness of his words must have been apparent on my face because he took the liberty to explain more, "The land where you can never grow old. Where you can live inside of a real imagination. The place where a boy will never become a man."

My breath was starting to catch in my throat. I had no understanding of this place, and yet it seemed like an echo of a small worn out memory.

James's own face was reflecting my confusion and he was now starting to look worried. "The land of Peter Pan."

Okay, that was it. I have completely lost my mind. I had drowned in that ocean water, and now I wasn't even in a place of paradise, or hell. I was in a place of dusty memories that were rioting against me.

"What?" I asked out of breath, forgetting all proper tactics and screwing all ways of acting 'upper class.'

"You've been here before, when times were easier. Before there was a dividing line, before two queens even ruled Neverland. You came here in the Old Times. When there was a young boy who refused to grow up and he flew around like he was king of the entire land. You knew him. You changed him. And then you left.

"A few years after you left, two sisters came here—to this day, no one has any idea how they got here. They were complete opposites, against each other in everything. One wanted to take everything about Neverland, and turn it into something more of her liking. She wanted to take away the light and have everything and everyone rule under her power. Now the younger sister had no idea what the eldest was doing at first. She didn't understand how the life of things was slowly fading away. And the day she discovered what her sister was up to, she decided to fight back. Try and bring Neverland back to its old life. So she went to the part of Neverland her sister hadn't invaded yet, and started taking her own rule there; a much kinder, more lively rule. Since that day, there has been a constant war between light and the shadows. And this is the place where neither sister crosses to the other side."

This was definitely my own imagination attacking anything logical in my mind.

We still hadn't continued walking, just standing in the middle of the dirt road, directly under the separating line.

I couldn't make sense of any of this. At all. It was impossible. I racked my brain for any of the stories I used to tell John and Michael. The only thing I knew about Neverland was that it was the setting of all our stories. And yes, there was usually a never-aging boy, and mermaids, and pirates . . . a specific pirate whose name happened to be James Hook. _I am so fucking screwed. _

I decided to go with the memories I had of telling my brothers stories about Neverland, they seemed to be my safest bet right now.

"But you're, you're supposed to be . . ." supposed to be what? Evil? The villain? The pirate who just wanted to live in peace and would go to any length for it? I didn't know what to say.

"The pirate who wanted to destroy Peter Pan?" he summed up for me, and began walking again. "Yes, I was. A long time ago. Even after the two sisters came here I still wanted him gone. And when the older sister began her reign, I joined her for a short time—hoping it could help me get Pan dead. Oh, that was the most drunken, assaholic mistake I could ever make. A few months after I joined her, she noticed the selfish tasks I was doing for myself without her consent. So she set the crocodile on me. I never thought I would have as much luck as I did then, because right when I was about to be killed who else comes flying by other than Pan. He was flying over the older sister's territory to see if there was any strange happenings going on her could tell the youngest. By this time, he was more responsible with Neverland, and would do anything to bring it back to its old ways—or even better ways. Anyway, he saved me from that vicious, over grown crocodile, and I began helping the younger sister. Anything to help get rid of the wicked, cold, evil, conniving _bitch_."

Could this possibly get more outrageous? I mean, this man actually believes we're in a place that has been passed down from generation to generation as the setting of a legendary boy who never grew up. He must have really been a drunk.

We were still walking down the pathway, a silence growing over us. I didn't know what to say to his explanations. What the bloody hell do you say to that? So I settled for the simplest answer I could come up with.

"Oh." Yeah, that was my oh-so-brilliant comment. Then I asked the first question that came to mind, "Wait, when was I ever here?"

"About seven years ago. Amazing how many drastic changes one place can go through within seven years, isn't it?" he answered simply.

"What exactly happened when I was here?" I asked suddenly curious.

He faltered for a second in his easy, bouncing step, hesitating before he answered my question. "Umm . . . I don't think I should be the one to tell you that."

"Then who should?"

"Him," such a simple answer, as if I automatically knew who 'him' was.

"And who the bloody hell is that?" I asked stopping walking and looking into the blue eyes that had once been the eyes of a man who would go to any extent to kill one boy.

"Who do you think it is?"

The answer should have been pretty obvious. The one person this entire place practically used to revolve around. I should have known from the beginning.

"All I can tell you is this: you came here, and changed everything that defined this place."

I stared at the man for a few moments, completely awestruck.

In the distance I heard the sound of running men. Of heavy metal footsteps hitting dry, dead ground. And then there was the sound of runners following it. I knew exactly what that sound was. I had heard it before the six boys were taken. It was the sound of the soldiers that weren't even people coming our way. Apparently I wasn't the only person who heard this.

James looked behind me and we both saw rectangular forms running against the back drop of the gray and cloudy sky. I could tell he was just as worried as I was, although for different reasons. He was worried because he didn't want these strange . . . _things_ taking me away. Whereas I was worried because I didn't want another person being dragged away unwillingly because of me. I looked to James to see what we had to do.

"We need to get you to the Hollow, now!" he said taking my hand and leading me through the trees that were on the bright side, the side that was described as more lively. We ran through a small clearing where there were no trees in our way. We came upon a pond that surprisingly seemed dangerously deep, and too troublesome to swim through.

"And this is where I come to a stop milady," he said looking at me, and I knew he what he was saying. He was going to let them take him away as a distraction for me to get away.

"What? No, I can't go alone through this place," I objected, sounding like a child.

"But you have to, and I'll be fine. I am an ex-blood thirsty pirate after all," he said trying to lighten my worried and nervous fears. "Anyway, stop worrying about me. What you need to do is get to the Hollow." But before I could ask what that is or how to get there, he said, "Never mind what it is, all you need to know is that you've got to follow the sound of musical bells. And you'll see different colors of light, almost like orbs, there. Tell them who you are when you get there and they'll explain the rest."

Before I could object to any of this, and tell him that all of this was crazy I began feeling a strong blew around us.

"And now, I do regret this, but it's time for you to go," he said, stepping back a couple of steps from me. And as the wind blew stronger, he let out his own little whistling sound and blew his out air out which caused the breeze to start in a frenzy. I began feeling a strong pull from the blowing air. It began blowing around me more than it was with the trees and suddenly it had me spinning around gently, and I couldn't even compensate the idea that I was suddenly in the air, and on the other side of the pond.

Really, I shouldn't be getting any more surprises from this place—Neverland.

I looked back across the pond to see James beckoning me to hide behind one of the many trees around me. I went to one where I was tall enough to peep through the branches and watch James. I saw the rectangular soldiers streaming through the narrow break through between the trees that lined the pathway. They didn't even seem like soldiers, they seemed more like rangers eyeing an animal more than they were looking at an actual person.

This place had seemed more brutal than any story I've told my brothers. Odd creatures acting like protectors of a woman who was destroying everything about Neverland. Insane drunken men claiming to be attacked by an enormous crocodile. A young boy whose name is hardly ever even used.

And the strangest thing of all, two sisters dividing this place—a place that children hear of as magical, and enchanting. One is uniting people to fight for it, and one is uniting people to fight against it. This was a different kind of catastrophe then any of my stories could ever tell Neverland to be.

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**And there was chapter 6! Hope there was no disappointment. **

**And I pray I didn't over do Alice inWonderland without realizing. **

**Once again thank you for the reviews, they definitely helped! And please, please, please submit some more! Tell me what you thought, if it wasn't enough Peter Pan. Just please review.**

**And I will, hopefully, be back to writing soon. Thank you for reading.**

**Sincerely, Savannah.**


	7. Rabbit Heart

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, I wanted to say thank you to the reviews I received. It would probably scare many of you if you saw how excited I was when I got the e-mail. Seriously thank you so much! I also wanted to say, I am so sorry about the late update. What has it been? Almost a week, a little over. So, so sorry. **

**And I've been in Orlando, FL this past week, so that was half of the cause, but I have had the craziest experience getting attacked by a Jacuzzi faucet! Absolute insanity right there.**

**Any who , here is chapter 7!**

* * *

**_Rabbit Heart_**

_Here I am, a __**Rabbit Hearted **__girl_

_Frozen in the headlights_

_It seems I made the final sacrifice._

_This is a gift, it comes with a price._

_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_

_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_

_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._

_I look around but I can't find you._

_If only I could see your face._

_I started rushing towards the starlight._

_I wish that I could just be brave._

_I must become the lion hearted girl,_

_Ready for a fight._

_Before I make the final sacrifice._—Florence and the Machine

Okay, what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just leave James there to get carried away. And I had no idea what was waiting for me at the Hollow. For all I knew, there could be some other attack waiting to spring on me.

But by the time I turned around to find any way of helping James, the red rangers had already tied him up, and somehow had knocked him unconscious in a completely silent way.

How could I help him now?

I couldn't. There was no way possible. Even if these soldiers weren't as armed as they were, there was still a good number of them. And only one of me.

I looked at where James was just seconds ago, and I saw his form fading into the dark on the other side. The direction they were going in was clear, and I could easily follow them. But what would I do after that? How would I break him free from the bounding ropes and get the both of us away safely?

And I knew what I had to do.

* * *

It didn't take as long as I thought it would to find a way around the circle shaped pond. I was close enough to the rangers to hear where they were going, and yet far enough so they wouldn't even have the whisper of footsteps behind them.

Now, don't ask me why I forced myself to go back. Because honestly, I couldn't give a logical answer. After watching several people being dragged off to wherever those things were taking them, and then leaving even more people behind to face whatever the hell was coming, I couldn't bear to just walk away from another person who was being tied up mere meters away from me.

I'm not trying to be some heroine who wants to prove she can do anything, and who will go against what everyone was saying to prove a point. I wasn't trying to be some cliché. I just didn't want someone else to have to suffer because they were helping me.

I was starting to feel a damp mist hanging in the air, and the mossy grass beneath me was turning into powdery sand. There was a hushed sound of waves crashing on a shore a short distance away.

_Where the hell are they taking him?_

I kept following them, breathing slow breaths, and being nothing but a shadow to them.

"Take him out to the old Roger," a heavily accented voice ordered.

I noticed that the rangers had veered into another direction, where the sound of crashing waves was more who still had James constricted, had started walking closer to the water where a small rowing boat was rocking in the water, swaying along with the waves.

The rangers mounted the row boat, looking completely out of place, and pushed themselves off the rock where the boat was tied to. _Oh shit! How the hell am I supposed to follow that?_

I looked around my shelter for an idea of what to do. There was nothing that could help me go after them without being seen. It was when I saw a low cliff, not too far off, that dipped straight into the water, that I got the idea. The simplest idea that should have been obvious.

Making sure there was no one around me, I sauntered over to the edge of the cliff and lowered myself towards the water. I felt the cool, salty sea water rush around my legs, and when I let go of the rugged edge to fall, the water swallowed me, and left me in shivers. I pushed toward the surface, and my entire upper body popped out of the water. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms, and along my neck. _How many times was I going to throw myself off a cliff here?_

Once I had managed to keep a steady pace in the beyond freezing water, I looked around for the row boat. Not too far off, I saw it sailing, slightly roughly, along the waves, rocking the passengers back and forth. Sucking in a huge breath, I threw myself back into the water, and started heading in the same direction.

The scenery under the water really shouldn't have shocked me. But it did, absolutely took my breath away. The sand at the very bottom had reflected the turquoise color that had surrounded all around me, and the corals seemed almost exotic—like the plants I've seen here had somehow fallen into the water and grew into beautiful coral formations which had spread. The sunshine coming down on me sparkled off the water and created specks that looked like dots of a fairy's light.

The more strange this place got, the more exotically beautiful it became.

By the time I had to come up for air again, I was swimming beside the row boat, keeping near to the bottom of it. I kept my gasping to a low volume, and stayed just above the surface so my lungs could have access to oxygen.

I didn't realize where exactly the row boat was going until we came across an old tattered ship that looked nearly ghostly, leaning up against a black stone wall. The ship itself looked like it had been built for greatness in the past, only now it just looked . . . dead—no other word for it. It took me a while to take my eyes off the haunted ship, but when I finally looked at where it was leaning, I saw the black stone wall had led up to an entire castle made out of the black stone. And the turquoise water I had been swimming in only moments ago had turned into a murky dark gray. As if the entire place was known for its dark façade.

"Steer this thing over to the Roger," one of the rangers said. After following the row boat veer left, I went back underwater and swam to the ship, figuring that was where they were headed.

It was only after I watched the four rangers heave themselves onto the ship, along with James, that I found my way up on the opposite side. The deck of the ship was like any other you would come across in paintings of a pirate's voyage. Nothing I wasn't expecting.

I kept to the edge while I heard the voices of the rangers coming from a room that was directly under the ship's steering. I silently edged over to the stairs that led to the steering, and kept low to the ground, trying to determine what they were saying.

"Why don't we just keep him here until we can get the beast out on him. Then we can set the bloody thing on the ship too, you know, killing two annoyances with one stone." I heard one say.

_What exactly was the beast?_

I was praying it wasn't the gray haired furry creature that had clawed at my arm. How the hell could I deal with that thing again?

"Alright fine. We'll keep him tied in here, no one in their right mind would even think of coming over here, and even if they did, no way in hell would they be able to break through this." Another one said.

I inched away from the steering and the edge as they all filed out of the quarters. One by one they climbed back down onto the row boat with the rope ladder, orderly. Like the soldiers they thought they were. When I saw that they had rowed themselves into the cave-like entrance of the dark castle, I slowly made my way down the stairs, never taking my eyes off the tall archway.

Walking backwards, I made my way into the quarters that I had assumed used to be a captain's. Well, _used_ to be. The room almost looked barbaric. A wooden table—that had probably served as a desk at some point—had been turned over, and it seemed like every piece of its drawers contents had been emptied on the floor. When I took a step further into the place, I heard a crumple of paper beneath my feet. I bent down to pick it up and saw that it must have been an entire map of Neverland, drawn out with artistic hands. Rolling up the map, I kept it in my hands. I looked more closely at the floor, there were iron hooks scattered out, all menacing. _Why the bloody hell are there hooks?_

I looked up to find James strapped to a chair, only half unconscious by now. I hurried over to him, and wove my hands through the knots of the sturdy rope. Nothing would happen. Apparently it was impossible to break through this rope. By the time I let out a sigh of frustration, James had stirred and looked around him groggily. Recognition had dawned on his face as he took in his surroundings. And then he looked at me.

Surprise. Shock. Anger. Surprisingly relief. Then his expression got mixed with anger, again.

"Why the bloody hell are you here? I thought I told you to keep going and leave me," he said in a hurried outraged voice.

"Well if you claim to know me from several years ago, you _would_ know, I'm not the kind to leave someone behind," that sounded completely calm, was that me?

"Even so, you shouldn't be here. Go back however you came, and get yourself to the Hollow—"

"I am not leaving you here!" I nearly shouted at him. _Ok, how the fuck was that me?_

I could tell me facial expression looked stern and stubborn. That was enough to get him to stop telling me to go back.

After several failed attempts to get the knots to come undone, I took a step back and looked around me. "There has to be something that can cut through these," I muttered.

James, still strapped to the chair, looked around him. I walked around the room and found broken rum bottles, burnt out cigars, and more furniture turned over. It was when I stepped on a hard object, and heard the sound of crunching glass beneath my feet, that I looked down. A compass. It was thick and round, with intricate carvings etched into its golden sides. Beneath the broken glass, there was an arrow spinning madly. Not stopping on one of the four letters, it just kept going and going. Completely out of control. Much like everything else here.

My eyes followed the arrow, around and around in circles, when it finally started to slow down from its mad frenzy. I had already guessed that it wasn't going to land on a letter, nor was that its actual purpose. The arrow landed between the N and the W. I walked over there slowly, taking in every object around me. There was nothing that could possibly do anything. Broken pieces of iron, sword handles, absolutely nothing. But when the ground beneath me started to feel hollow, like there was nothing underneath it, I felt an odd feeling.

It was that same feeling that made me follow Tinker Bell down the ocean hole in the first place, it was the same one that made me follow the boys through the forest, and it was the same feeling that made me trust everything that James had told me in the first place.

I bent down and put my hands to the dark wood. Feeling around on the floor, I came upon a piece that seemed like it was slightly higher than all the other pieces, maybe just a centimeter higher. Nothing noticeable to anyone who didn't look. Sing my nails, I hooked the piece of wood, and slowly lifted it. There was a shallow dark space, filled with dead grass and wood shavings, and hay. Cautiously, I put my hand in the space, slowly feeling around for anything. My hand came across a thin rugged handle, and when I gripped it, my thumb slowly slid higher until it hit a piece of cold metal. I pulled the thing out and saw it was a dagger. Perfect.

After putting the wooden piece back, I ran over to James, and started teasing the rope. When it began fraying, I gave one last pull with the knife, and the rope instantly fell to the ground.

James stared at the torn up rope in shock. Slowly he began to pull himself up. I could tell his muscles were protesting the entire time, but he managed to stand on his own.

"Keep that dagger with you," he instructed me, so I folded it up in the map of Neverland I found, and stuck it in my boot—lacking anywhere else to put it.

James began walking towards the entrance towards the quarters, when we heard voices—voices of the rangers.

"Okay, the beast is loose. Just leave old Hook out on the deck," one of them said, and when we both noted that his voice sounded pretty close is when the panic began. Well, for me at least.

"Come with me," James said taking my hand and leading me back up the stairs just outside the entrance. He kept me to the far edge, away from the stairs when the rangers all got on board.

"Where the fuck is he?" one of the rangers shouted in a voice that was louder than anything I've heard from them.

"Wendy, start climbing down," James told me to do. I looked over the edge and saw a rope ladder that wasn't there before. I heaved myself over the railing and started descending the ladder. James was watching me, making sure I didn't fall, when they spotted him.

"Hook! How did you get out of there?" A voice asked him in a leeringly disturbing voice that made me freeze once he said the first word.

I clung to the ladder, grasping every word they were saying.

James shrugged with an easy and yet uncertain smile on his face, "Smee."

"Yeah? Well, he's not here to help you now is h—" the leering voice stopped abruptly. He looked over the edge of the ship when a impish grin overcame his features. "Ah, I see the thing is still _craving_ you."

I could feel questions filling my eyes, but most of them were answered when an enormous creature immerged from the water. Its entire scaled and rugged body came out of the water, with its jaws opened as wide as its liquid yellow eyes were. The eyes were more snakelike than anything else, with the black slits vertical right in the middle. The giant crocodile.

James's posture was nearly frozen when he took in the sight of the beast. His entire frame shuddered when a ticking sound was audible over the splash of the water. I took this as my cue to continue descending the ladder. And when I reached the stone, rocky floor of the castle, I could see James didn't even make a move. I saw a small rock on the ground by my feet, and when I threw it at him, he seemed reawakened. He nearly jumped the railing, and instead of climbing down the ladder, he hands gripped the edges and he glided down.

When he reached the ground by me, he led the way into the castle in a hurried frenzy run. The crocodile seemed to have known what James was doing because he followed us into the entrance, using the water as his passageway. Surprisingly, we both could outrun the crocodile long enough to run up a flight of stairs that passed black stone statues, a rocky carvings. When the crocodile had tried to jump up after us, he was only able to take off a piece of the black metallic rock steps—which nearly made me stumble, but I kept pushing forward.

It didn't take us long to make our way up the tower, and out onto a balcony that overlooked the rough waters below us. The waves looked sharp and deathly as they hit up against the rocks lining the castle.

We slowed our run to a walk as we inched towards the balcony's walls.

"Okay, now what do we do up here?" I asked, out of breath.

James was about to answer that when we heard a ticking noise, taunting us both, with a low growl. The towers wall's were shaking slightly, as if an impact from too much weight.

"Holy shit. How the hell did that thing get up into the tower?" he asked, not really expecting an answer, I could tell. We were both to out of breath to sound shocked.

Taking slow breaths heavily, James looked out onto the water below us, then back at me. I understood what he was saying.

"Oh no, how do you honestly think we can survive those waters?" I asked incredulously.

"Either that, or we both get swallowed hole having to listen to the incredibly annoying sound of a ticking clock even in our death."

I considered that. "I can handle a ticking noise."

He looked at me disbelievingly. "What happened to you? A long time ago, you would have done anything to survive."

"But how do you know that throwing ourselves into those waters, will help us survive?"

"It's a better bet than staying here, knowing you'll get swallowed."

Damn, why did he have to make the first logical point I've heard since I got here, _now?_

I looked down at the water, then back at the archway to the tower's stairs, where the ticking and growling were becoming more distinct.

I took a deep breath before I answered him, "Fine."

We lifted ourselves so we were sitting on the balcony's edge, and before I knew it, we pushed ourselves off.

Of the many falls and dives I've taken here, this was by far the most terrifying. I felt suspended in the air for what felt like hours and yet seconds at the same time. There was no gravity, no railing for me to cling on to . . . nothing. It could have been called exhilarating in a way—which it was, possibly the most exciting thing I've ever done—but it was also the most _petrifying _thing I've ever done.

I let out a scream as the dark water came rushing at us as we got closer and closer to its murky depths. Once we plunged through its icy surface, it felt like a million frozen knives pricking at every inch of my skin. And the pressure of the waves were enough to toss us around like rag dolls. I felt myself being turned upside down, and spun around, but I couldn't tell which was up or down. Which way would take me further into the depths and which would take me to air. There was no way to tell.

I felt myself being thrown into a rock that I figured was one of the ones lining the castle—the only good thing that came out of this was that I was thrown out of the water. Gasping for air was especially hard because I landed squarely on my chest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a black head emerge and then go back down. Going against what my muscles were telling me, I gripped the rock with my right hand, and reached out into the water with my left. A rough, calloused hand grasped my left, and I started to pull it up. James's breathing was rugged and heavy, not being able to get air into his lungs fast enough.

"Still think we can survive this?" I asked after a few moments.

James looked around, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course."

I looked at him skeptically and he raised his eyebrows.

"Did you bother to look around you?" I actually haven't. Not having the energy to even lift my head after pulling James up and out of the water.

He didn't need me to confirm my 'no'. All he did was point to our surroundings. I was completely awestruck.

The rocks I thought I had landed on weren't ones that lined the walls of the castle like I thought they were ones that lined a beach. The water was hardly even rough anymore, much less dark, the deep blue turquoise color had returned, along with fine powdery sand.

I picked up my head to look forward. A forest of ferns was ahead of us, and the sound of melodious bells was singing in the distance.

"We're here," James said in awe.

"Where is 'here' exactly?" I asked, not sure if I should be glad or nervous.

"The Hollow," his voice full of awe.

Slowly, he stood up on the rock and stepped down onto the sand, and waited for me. I slid myself off the rock, and felt the powdery sand mold beneath my feet. We walked forward into the fern forest and the sound of bells became more distinct, and golden lights seemed to be erupting. It was only when we got to be in the middle of everything that the sound of ringing bells was perfectly clear.

Where we were, there were no more ferns on the forest floor. Instead it was soft, luscious, healthy grass beneath us. The great oaks surrounding the clearing all had a hole carved into their center, which was filled with the golden and silver glows. But believe it or not, that wasn't the most surprising thing here.

In the midst of the oaks, there seemed to be wooden houses held up on pedestals, and they were all connected by vines; all varying in size and height. And they each had their own décor, where one would have long vines interwoven with various colors of lilies hanging from its walls, while another would all different types of exotic flowers implanted throughout. It seemed entirely wild, and yet too beautiful to describe.

I didn't notice that I was practically turning around in circles so I could see every aspect of this place, until James began speaking.

"The houses here are for the people who are fighting alongside the youngest sister. They had to be in the midst of one of the most unexpected places in all of Neverland."

"So was this place for fairies before the two sisters came?"

"Yes, the youngest sister was going to recruit everyone somewhere else, but the fairy queen told her this would be the most unthinkable place."

"And the youngest sister stays here? Even though she's practically a queen?"

"She moves between here and her castle. She always comes here when she's expecting something."

"Is she here now?"

"Yes."

"What is she expecting?" honestly, my curiosity was overruling everything else in me.

"You."

And as if on cue, a woman came up behind us and spoke.

"Ah, Captain James, you're back."

The woman was unnaturally pale, almost ghostly, with shockingly red lips. Her long auburn black hair was set in loose waves going halfway down her back. And her brown eyes . . . they almost reminded me of a lily. Around the pupils, there would be a lighter shade of brown specks that seemed to form a line, and it would be in four different spots around the pupil. It was exotically outstanding.

"I'm no longer a Captain, no need to use the formalities," James said, but you could easily tell he was happy to be called the name of his previous title.

"Oh? And has the Jolly Roger reached the oceans dark depths?" When James shook his head, she said, "Then you are still a Captain."

She gave him a gentle smile and looked over at me. "I see we have a guest." Her voice had the sense of royalty to it, and yet a serene calm.

"Yes, we do," James straightened his posture. "Your highness, may I present Miss Wendy Darling."

The queen's eye widened once she heard 'Wendy'. The smile that was already plastered on her face had brightened and grew incredibly.

"Wendy," she said my name as if we had known each other for years, "I am Ashaway."

"Good evening, Ashaway," I said, still completely stunned, but trying to speak.

"As to you. Well, I see you both have gone through quite the adventure to get here," she said when she noticed my soaked, pale blue dress that was now tattered along the hem, and ripped at both sleeves.

"You could say that," I answered, looking myself up and down.

Ashaway smiled, "Then I'm guessing we should find some dry and comfortable clothes for you."

"Yes, please."

"I'm sorry, Captain, ladies first," Ashaway said to James with a teasing smile replacing the gentle one.

"No hurry, Queen," James said backing away.

"Come with me," she said to me, taking my hand and leading me away to one of the higher and larger wooden houses. "So, I've heard you don't remember anything from your days here?"

"How did you hear that?" I asked, completely confused.

Ashaway turned to look at me as she was opening the French-styled doors, and irreplaceable smile showing. "Fairies love to gossip."

I gave a little laugh at that. Imagining the middle aged women in England who squeal at the most _scandalous _stories, and then picturing fairies gathering together to share their own gossip—something told me that the tales the fairies had to tell would be by far more interesting.

The house Ashaway took me into seemed to have vines with flowers interwoven on every wall. The dark wood floor had lilies, and lily petals spread all over it. Every piece of furniture was made out of the wood that seemed to have come from the oak trees around us, and they all had different kinds of flowers on them. I looked over to the bed; the mattress looked like it had that squishy feeling of softness that made you fall into a dreaming state once you hit it.

"This will be your home while you're here," Ashaway informed me.

Ashaway took me into a room that was farthest from the door we had just entered, where there was a full length mirror edged with what appeared to be sea glass. Draped on a short side table, I saw an off-white dress, with long sleeves that flowed out at the wrist—it seemed to be made out of a light material. A pair of white silk flats sat on the floor beneath the table.

"I'll leave you to get dressed," Ashaway said to me, walking out of the room, closing the door, and walking back into the main room.

* * *

When I had finally slipped out of the clinging blue dress and into the sun-warmed dress, I stepped out into the main room to find Ashaway looking out the window that was on the right of the entrance door. She turned to look at me and smiled at my new appearance.

"I assume that's better?" she asked lightly.

"Much, thank you." My long autumn brown hair had finally air dried all the way, and it was left in loose waves, falling over my shoulders.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me?" she asked, a small glint of excitement in her eye, but from what?

"Of course not," I said following her out the door.

She asked me about my journey here, and I told her everything she wanted to know and everything I could remember. I told her Neverland's recent history that James informed me on, and she seemed just as shocked and stunned as everyone else I encountered here.

While we were wondering around the clearing, Ashaway had led me into a small cave that was well lit by torches that had been hung along the walls. The cave almost seemed like a small fortress, an excellent place for hiding. That was at least, until I heard the clashing or swords.

"Oh dear, they're at it again," Ashaway sighed, more to herself and began walking further into the cave, until we reached a well rounded room. There was a large stone in the center, but along the walls of the rock, I could see various paintings—just like the ones that were on the map of Neverland I had found in James's old quarters (which I had placed on the small side table where my dress was).

"Where is she? You were sent out to find her, and bring her back?" a voice said in a slight shout filled with defiance.

"And I did bring her back, she's—" I recognized James's voice, which was cut off by the sound of more clanking swords.

"She was supposed to be here by now," the stranger's voice said, it sounded slightly mature but young, very different from James's voice.

I saw that the two men were now leading their fight into the carved stone room Ashaway and I were now standing in.

"Shouldn't you try to stop them?" I whispered to Ashaway, looking away from the two.

"Once they've started, there's no stopping them. Really, they do more yelling at these, than fighting, but if one gets the other worked up, it's nearly impossible to get either of them to see sense."

I could see that the sword fight was getting uglier and uglier with every passing minute and that the yelling had somewhat quieted—neither of them noticing us. I could feel Ashaway cringe every time the clashing swords let out a ringing noise throughout the whole cave.

I watched as the swords were swung at the other's heads and throats, but when the stranger's sword had incidentally hit James's right arm and brushed aside the fabric that was where his right hand was supposed to be, I noticed that there was nothing there. No right hand.

"Ready to lose the other one?" the stranger's voice asked, tauntingly.

They continued with the fighting, and it was when both of their swords almost sliced through each other's at the same time, that I couldn't take it anymore.

"What the _bloody hell_ are you doing?" I hadn't really noticed it was me who spoke until the words were done coming out.

The two men had stopped fighting to turn and see who spoke. James didn't look entirely surprised to see it was me, but he did look relieved. The other man, however, seemed like he couldn't breathe anymore.

He had unruly blonde hair that was a mixture of curls, spikes and slight waves on his head. His body was lean and built, and everything about him screamed at me that I was supposed to remember _something_ about this guy. He seemed childish and yet mature—not wanting to admit the maturity about him—that much I could tell.

He walked toward me, smooth and fast, I could barely see it coming.

I was almost sure the pounding in my heart was making the cave alls vibrate, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his face to look around me. The hard and constant beating in my chest, was vividly reminding me of a rabbit. How it thumps it back legs when it hops here and there, I've always wondered how a little heart in rabbits could take that constant jumping around. My heart was definitely acting up, entirely like a rabbit's heart.

Every fall and jump—even off of a thousand foot high tower—had led me to this hollow. But why was I needed here so much? How did the rough waves toss me around so I would end up on that certain beach? What was the major point? I just couldn't see it.

When the stranger reached me, his left hand cupped my chin, fitting perfectly there, and his calloused thumb brushed over my bottom trembling lip. He moved his thumb across it as if this was confirmation enough to who I was.

"Wendy . . ." he said, awe filling his voice, like he wasn't believing anything he was seeing.

He looked deep into my eyes, and his entire face lit up.

I finally brought myself to look him in the eye, and I found the most shocking thing I've come across here, yet. Deep ocean blue eyes.

* * *

**And there it was. Sorry I had to end it like that, but this chapter had already taken up ten pages on Microsoft, and I figured that was long enough. **

**Hope I didn't disappoint. And I figured it could be this long as an apology for not updating in a while. **

**And now, I'm going to ask you, to hit that review button! Please, I absolutely LOVE them! I've recently discovered I'm a review addict, so help the cause. Please review, I appreciate any of it! **

**Thank you for reading, and I will definitely be back soon. I'm really excited to start writing the next chapter, so that should push me. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.**

**Sincerely, Savannah **


	8. Bird of the Summer

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, as always, I want to say ****THANK YOU**** to the reviews! You are helping the addict here. And in the past couple of days took me by surprise, I was getting a lot of favorite story alert e-mails and alert e-mails, and, honestly, I was freaking out! It was absolutely incredible!**

**And—I thought I should just say this—I was walking around in Publix, thinking of this chapter, when this song started playing. Of course I take this as an obvious sign—I believe in odd stuff like that—from the music gods that this should be on repeat while writing this chapter. Hopefully it does justice!**

**Also, I **_**finally**_** saw 'Eat, Pray, Love' today, it was **_**incredible!**_** A definite recommendation for anyone who's looking to see a movie. **

**Anyway, here is chapter 8!**

* * *

**_Bird of the Summer_**

_My cheeks red like fire engines racing_

_Straight to the heat of your skin._

_And I know our days are numbered,_

_Early __**Bird of the Summer**__ you'll fly south_

_Just as fall begins._

_The leaves changed their colors_

_And the schoolyards were filled._

_My coat with the patches_

_Barely keeps out the chill._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_The fields where we wandered were golden._

_Now only muddy my boots._

_And I know I should recover,_

_You're a __**Bird of the Summer**__,_

_I was wrong to try and capture you._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_Gone is the pale hand of winter,_

_And here is the first flush of May._

_And soon I will discover whether _

_**Birds of the Summer**_

_Fly in circles or _

_Just fly away._—A Fine Frenzy

I couldn't take my eyes out of his ocean blue ones. The mystical and wonderful color of them blindsided me. Something about these two orbs, that seemed as bright as one of the fairy's lights, was burned in my memory. The young, _alive_ soul behind the glass clear ocean sapphires just seemed so _familiar._

I could practically feel myself get swallowed by an entirely different sea. For a moment I had to remind myself that I wasn't falling from a thousand foot tower, only to be thrown around by waves and tossed into rocks. I was standing—somewhat firmly—on my two feet.

In what seemed like a hand carved cave.

In a fairy hollow.

In Neverland.

With a pirate who has no right hand, a queen who seemed like she was born from nature itself. And a blonde haired boy, who was now just retreating his left hand from my chin.

A blonde haired boy, whose eyes never left mine.

I don't know what he saw there that kept his eyes captivated in mine, but it must have been enough.

And I didn't even know his name.

"Peter, dear?" Ashaway said, breaking the perpetual silence that I had barely noticed. I broke away from his gaze to look at Ashaway—I didn't realize I was holding my breath.

At first I didn't think he heard Ashaway, until he answered with his eyes still locked on me. "Yeah, Ash."

"I think . . . you should probably came with me for a while," Ashaway answered cautiously.

I kept my eyes on her or James. Not daring to meet the boy's burning gaze. Although, I did allow myself quick glances out of the corner of my eye, through my still tangled hair.

The boy standing before me seemed to be about twenty-one. And yet, aside from his age, he had an immaturely and recklessness about him that seemed to add to everything else. In all else, handsome couldn't have been a big enough word to describe him.

"Okay, Ash," he said it like he wasn't even paying attention to any of the words going on around him.

"Peter?" Ashaway tried to get his attention. Peter?" she started walking towards him, and said his name a third time when she was standing behind him. "Peter?"

"Pan?" James said, coming behind him, standing next to Ashaway. When he wouldn't listen, James lifted his right arm, and hit the back of the boy's head with his bare wrist. "Listen to the woman."

"The boy came right out of his stupor, and stumbled forward, slightly. His facial expression still seemed like he was in awe, but it also looked like something had reignited. Probably because he remembered the near-to-death sword fight he was having with James.

He looked back at Ashaway and James, giving the pirate a grimace—which looked like it was a mixture of hate and thankfulness. It that was even possible.

Turning back to Ashaway, he asked, "What was that?" innocently.

Ashaway obviously wasn't fooled by his act. "Ah, now we're getting innocent. Couldn't have turned your act like that _before_ you started slashing away your sword, could you?"

I saw him give a sheepish grin, lifting his eyebrows, and raising his shoulders in a shrug—as if he were an overly confident teenager being caught for doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

And with that, Ashaway gave an amused smile, and stepped away from her spot beside James. "Come with me for a walk, Peter. There are some things we need to discuss." Her eyes flashed over to me for a second, but it was long enough for Peter to notice. His eyes glanced over to me, but I couldn't will myself to look in his eyes again, knowing I would be swallowed and absorbed.

"Discuss?" he asked, looking back over to Ashaway. "It sounds so formal. I shudder at the thought," his voice filled with light sarcasm.

This brought a small smile to my lips.

Ashaway laughed, "Of course you do." Walking past Peter, and towards the entrance of the cave, she stopped to address me in a gentle voice. "I bid you goodnight, Wendy. May sweet dreams come your way."

I didn't know, exactly, what to say to this, so I gave a slight smile, "Goodnight."

I could still feel Peter's gaze on me, and so I finally willed myself to look at him. His blue eyes were nearly hesitant, but it looked as if a past worry had finally been made to peace. The sweet and easy smile he gave me could be similar to a happy and yet troubled sixteen-year-old.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Wendy," he said in the same gentle voice he used when he first addressed me. Saying my name, as if it were a sigh, I swear, I could have felt something in my chest go off like a drum. Or the wings of an erratic bird.

Not being able to say anything, I just nodded, and felt my head physically follow his retreating form out of the cave. I stayed in my spot, standing still, as James made his way over to me.

"Still think this is just a dream?" he asked carefully, standing just behind me.

I turned my head slightly, "Hell yes. Now even more so."

James sighed in frustration, "We were hoping this would have woken you up from this strange stupor."

It took a while to understand, exactly, what he was saying. "Wait, what do you mean 'woken' me up? How could I wake up if this was, after all, just a dream?"

"My dear, you've believed this is all a dream. The part of you that used to create stories about Neverland, the dreaming part, had been asleep for the past several years.

"We call it Dreaming Out Loud. Those nightmares you used to wake up from in the middle of the night, they would be screaming at you to remember. And now, it seems as if the dreams have come to life before your eyes. Only more haunting. Dreaming out loud."

I turned around to face him full. None of that could be possible, it was ridiculous. And yet it made so much sense . . .

"But, if any of that is _true_, then why would the '_dreaming_ part' of me, have ever even fallen asleep?"

"Because your human; you sleep. And with tired eyes, a tired mind, a tired _soul_, you slept."

* * *

The night sky around me was past its twilight stage, and was now a deep cerulean, on the edge of darkness. The palm trees and ferns surrounding the houses looked like pitch black shadow figures.

I looked around me and saw the hordes and hordes of candle light coming from every house. They almost looked like a nest of fairies.

I was looking at all of this from the roof of the small house I was given. While pacing the room that served as a closet, I found a square door on the ceiling. And after hoisting myself on to the round table, I pulled myself through the square doorway, and found myself on the roof.

James's words kept replaying through my mind. How could a part of me, have been asleep? None of this could be real, it _had_ to be a dream.

Sitting on the edge of the roof, my legs brought to my chest, I stared up at the moon. A blinding white crescent smile, hanging in the endless pitch black. The stars somehow seemed closer here than they did in England, like I could float right up to one and take it with me, back down, for safe keeping.

This entire place had a taunt to it. Like every square inch was haunting me. From the light of the fairies, to the Cheshire moon, to the deep turquoise waters. The idea that I was once here, seven years ago was entirely . . . unfathomable.

A slight shudder in the wood beneath me, and the sound of it creaking behind me, broke me out of my trance. I turned my head to see the deep blue eyes that had completely mesmerized me.

Peter took a hesitant step back, looking almost ashamed of himself for being caught. His face said it all. He stood up straighter, put his right arm behind his back, and his left arm in front of him, to go along his waistline. He gave a bow, eyes never leaving mine.

I stayed in my spot, squinting my eyes in question at his unexpected gesture. Peter straightened up, and it looked like he was searching for words.

"This was the part where you gave a—," he explained cautiously.

"Curtsy," I finished for him when I saw him struggling for the right word, making it sound more like a question.

"Yeah."

I considered this. "What did you mean '_was_'?"

"Well the night I took you to Neverland, I bowed, and then you gave a . . . curtsy. We introduced ourselves that way."

"Why did you just do it now?"

"Because you don't remember me," he answered simply, although there was a tint of sadness to his voice that he probably didn't want anyone to hear.

Once again, I considered what he said. _Well, in that case . . ._

I pulled myself up from my perch. Standing as straight as my legs and back would allow, I crossed my ankles, bent my legs, and gave a curtsey. My eyes never leaving his.

When I stood up, I watched as a grin quickly replaced the careful look in his eye. Slowly, he walked towards me—over the blankets and pillows I brought up here, to lay out on—and sat himself on the edge. I turned, and went back to the same sitting position I was in before, not knowing what else to do.

We sat in a few moments of silence, gazing out at the landscape of Neverland. I didn't exactly know what to say to him or if he was even expecting me to say anything. A small part of me was expecting him to say that it was amazing I didn't remember anything, or ask why I didn't remember. Just out of routine of what everyone I've met here so far had said.

But he didn't.

So I felt the need to break the silence.

"Just out of curiosity, why don't you appear younger?" Yeah . . . _that_ was the first question that popped into my mind. "It seems as if you're a young twenty-year-old, instead of . . . a young teenager."

Now _he_ was giving me a questioning look. "I thought you didn't remember."

"I . . . I don't. But I remember stories. And you're supposed to be . . . younger," I said, now looking up and down as if this would be proof.

"Oh," his face seemed to have fallen slightly. He continued talking while looking forward, "Well, you've heard about the two sister's rivalry, right? When Ashaway left _her_, the older sister stormed all of Neverland in anger. She saw there were no traces of Ashaway or her soldiers, so in pure rage, the older sister destroyed the fairy queen's original hollow. It was this great big oak that was home for every single fairy in Neverland, except Tink.

"What none of us knew, was that tree held some kind of magic, the magic in Neverland that made sure no one grew up. When the oak was killed, the magic died with it."

He was looking at me now, as if this was a typical, delightful conversational story.

"So how old are you?" I asked, looking into his mesmerizing eyes.

"Twenty . . . I think," he answered, a humorous glint in his eyes. He looked back over the tree tops. "I was _never_ supposed to grow up."

I scoffed, looking away from him. "_Never_ is an awful long time."

He looked taken aback at that. As if I stunned him into a more shocking world than Neverland. Part of him was able to recover, but the pure surprise written on his face was still clear.

"Not here, it's not," he replied in an unexpected troubled voice.

"What, it never feels long?" I asked, going along with the conversation, not expecting an answer. "How long have you been here, exactly?"

"Peter turns his eyes from the now black sky with the stars spread out looking like a fairy's dust, to me. "Long enough to get used to the feel of being young, and never having to worry about growing old just to work in an office." He raises his eyebrows at that last part, making his blue eyes slightly bigger; all the more entrancing.

I had no idea what to say about that, but I found my curiosity had somehow taken over my voice box.

"What was it like to realize that you actually were growing up, _here_?"

"Terrifying," he answered, his eyes locked on mine, with a look in them that said, 'this was too deep of a secret to repeat.' "At first, I had no idea what was happening. None of us did. It was almost a year later when I noticed I was getting taller. Hook was looking even more like an old man than he used to. And Ash, we all noticed she wasn't the little girl she was when she was under the reign of her sister.

"The only people who didn't age were fairies. Since they were a part of the Old Hollow, its magic lives in them. Mermaids didn't age either. I think it has something to do with their waters . . . and they're siren call."

I looked up at him skeptically for this, "Siren call? That prevented them from aging?"

His face turned incredulous, "I have absolutely no idea how."

"Ah," I sighed. It probably should have mystified me, or shocked me that there were mermaids here, but there wasn't really anything that could have awestruck me anymore.

Not having any idea of what to say, I looked back out over the trees. I replayed his words over in my head, and imagined what it would be like to age after years of never growing. An incomprehensible feeling.

We sat in silence for a few moments while I thought of something.

"Peter . . . what exactly happened when I was here?" something I've been wanting to know since James mentioned it in the twilight walkway.

A smile reappeared on his face as he looked down. "Oh, a memorable story to tell."

"Memorable?" I scoffed, "Ironic."

Peter gave a slight chuckle and began to talk. "On the night your father said you had to grow up, I brought you and your brothers here. You were going to be a mother to the boys and tell them stories. Although, as soon as we got here, your brothers were lost and then they were captured by Hook and were brought to the Black Castle—it was all just bait to get me to come to him. I distracted him by bringing the big old crocodile to him—he's scared senseless of that thing. And that night I brought you to the Old Hollow to see the fairy queen. I'm a little blurry on this part, but I do know Hook kidnapped you, after that, and offered you to join the Jolly Roger's crew. When you told me what happened, you said that you going to deny Hook, but that you were also going home. Then, Hook kidnapped you again, tried to have me poisoned—which is when Tink saved my life, sacrificing hers—and that all pretty much lead to the . . . _rebellion_ against Captain Hook. At least, that's what I think Neverlanders call it."

I sat there in silence staring at him incredulously. An entire adventure story that any normal person would have no trouble remembering, and I had not a single flashback of any part of it. What the bloody hell was this?

Honestly, even if this was a dream, a small part of me was craving to remember any of what he was saying. Just so I would know there was something significant about my life.

"Ah. And what happened after the 'rebellion'?" I asked, just hoping that any of his answers would trigger _something_.

"You . . . went home, and completely forgot everything," he answered slowly, hesitantly. Under his breath he added, "every little thing."

I didn't know what to say to that. A part of me almost felt a little guilty for having no memory of anything. I almost wanted a part of my conscience to come knocking on the door of my wooden house with a box and say, "Hello. My name is Memory, and here is everything the dreaming part of your mind took with it when it went to sleep."

If only it could be _that_ simple.

Because I was dying to actually know that this could actually exist. Despite the insanity and madness and wondrous this place could be, I wanted to know it was real.

But, even if I was actually _looking_ at it, I couldn't convince myself that I was awake. I just couldn't.

"I'm sorry," I said, not really realizing that I was saying it out loud until it was already out in the air.

Peter gave a slight laugh, "Why are you apologizing?"

I laughed a little with him, "I don't know. It seems . . . it seems like what happened here was . . . special, I don't know. All James would tell me was that I came here, and _changed_ you, although I don't see how that could've happened. And then I leave, lose any recollection of what happened here, and even now I still think this is all just a dream."

"You really think this isn't real?" I gave a small nod. "Then, that would mean, that I wouldn't be real."

I gave a heavy breath; the weight of this conversation was making me feel like I was panting. "Afraid so."

His eyes shifted, and it looked like he was studying the wood paneled rooftop we were sitting on.

"I'm also sorry that I left," I said to try a pull him from this off brooding stupor he entered—it seemed completely uncharacteristic; also because I _was_ feeling guilty about it. "Even though I can't remember _why_ I left, I'm sorry."

He pulled his head from looking down, "It was strange. When you first came to Neverland, the frost went away. It was no longer the cold and iced winter; it was like you brought a whole new season with you. And then you left, the winter didn't exactly come back, but the shivering chill did. The summer look Neverland had was more like it was browning, that's what all of the leaves were doing.

"Winter eventually did come back again, and then the spring. By summer, I was hoping you would come back—like you would come with the new season. But you didn't. In the end, I stopped waiting for summer, knowing that it wouldn't bring you, but I was always a little hopeful."

How could you possibly say you were sorry for that? Would it even suffice? It didn't seem like it would.

He said I came with the season, and then I was gone just as another began. I flew away before anyone could catch me and hold me down in a birdcage. Just like I ran away from the proposal from . . . I couldn't even remember his name.

I was a bird of the summer in every ghastly sense of the expression. Arriving just as the warmest season began, and leaving as the leaves were beginning to show signs of changing. Then making people wait to see if I would fly back around in a circle, only to disappoint them without even knowing it.

In arrogance, no one would think it to be foolish to try and catch anyone like me. But it would, especially when all we do is run.

"I don't think saying sorry would be enough, or saying that I regret letting a part of me . . . die for a while. But I am sorry, and I do regret it . . . even if it seems . . . odd that I have to apologize for something that I don't remember." I told him, saying nothing but the truth.

He smiled a little at the honesty, his eyes receiving that mysterious glint the seemed to be a mixture of almost everything. "It _does _seem a little odd that you're apologizing for something like that."

I gave a laugh while stifling a yawn, "Well . . . you're making me feel guilty."

"That was not my intention."

"Oh of course it wasn't," I said with sarcasm leaking into my voice, letting out another yawn.

Peter laughed a little, and took note to my tiredness. "Well you probably want to go to sleep right now."

I gave a slight sheepish nod and reached for one of the many pillows I brought with me up here, and settled down on it. Peter watched this as a grin remained on his face.

"I'll see you in the morning, Wendy."

"Good night, Peter." I turned over on to my side and felt the layers and layers of blankets I had set out underneath me with the plush pillow molding itself to my face. It was barely seconds later when I felt myself drift off, and felt the weight of the roof shift as Peter stood up.

I was still somewhat aware of what was happening around me; I expected Peter to climb down the square door, back into the small house. But he did the exact opposite.

He leaned over me and said in a voice that suggested he thought I was already asleep, "I really missed you, Wendy." And I felt something press against my forehead, just under my hairline. And then the weight on the rooftop completely disappeared, like it was never there.

It didn't make sense, but it didn't really have to.

Because it was all part of the dream.

* * *

**Okay, now be honest, how was it? You could review and tell me. Or, hell, even yell at me for waiting so long to update which, again, I am so, so, so sorry for! But, if you're going to yell, please be nice about it.**

**Once again, I want to thank EVERYONE who has reviewed and added this story to their favorites or alert, or even me as a writer to their favorites or alert. Just thank you so much, I couldn't say it enough. **

**And about the next chapter, I'm going to warn you, I'm back at school—like everyone else—so updates may not be as fast as usual . . . not that they're really even fast sometimes. Anyways, I'm sure as hell going to try my hardest to write whenever I can.**

**Thank you for reading.**

**Sincerely, Savannah **


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